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Ccrnell University Library 
PR 2877.S95 

Shakespeare adaptations:The tempest, The 

3 1924 013 144 724 

Cornell University 

The original of tiiis bool< is in 
tine Cornell University Library. 

There are no known copyright restrictions in 
the United States on the use of the text. 

C This Edition of ^'■Shakespeare 
Adaptations" is limited to looo 
numbered . copies only for sale. 

C Copy Ks- 

Shakespeare ^Adaptations 

^ri^ve^^ tn^t^-. 

y" /^^'' i/<i<At jlujfi 

'The Tempest ; or, the Snchanted Island 

From the izmo "Dryden {vol. ii), 1735 

Shakespeare ^Adaptations 

The Tempest^ The J^ock Tempest^ and 

King Lear. With an Intro- 

duBion and U^tes by 

Montague Summers 

Jonathan Qape 

Eleven Qower Street London 


o -o. 




First Published 1922 
d^// "Rights reser'ved 



A small and single recognition 
of many and great kindnesses 


Prefatory Note 





The Tempest ; or, The Enchanted Island 


The Mock-Tempest ; or, The Enchanted 



The History of King Lear 




Prefatory O^te 

THE three plays included in the present volume 
are here exactly given from the original editions : 
Davenant and Dryden's The Tempest, or The 
Enchanted Island from the quarto of 1670 {The Term 
Catalogues, Hilary (17 February) 1670) ; Duffett's The 
Mock-Tempest : or The Enchanted Castle (also termed 
The New Tempest or The Enchanted Castle) from the 
quarto of 1675 {The Term Catalogues, Hilary (15 
February) 1675) ; and Nahum Tate's The History of 
King Lear from the quarto of 1681 {The Term Cata- 
logues, Easter (May) 1681). 

Of these, Davenant and Dryden's The Tempest has 
only once been reprinted, in the folio Dryden (Tonson, 
two volumes) of 1701. The version that appears in all 
the collected editions of Dryden, and which is given by 
Scott, and again by Saintsbury in his recension of Scott, 
is none other than the book of Thomas Shadwell's 
opera. The Tempest, or The Inchanted Island, first 
printed quarto 1674 {The Term Catalogues, Michaelmas 
(25 November) 1674). It must be particularly noted 
that in his Variorum The Tempest, Furness unwarily 
presents this libretto (in a mutilated state) for the 
Davenant and Dryden comedy, and, moreover, he most 
inaccurately heads this reprint (p. 389) " Dryden's 
Version." His unscholarly comments upon the text and 
banal treatment of the whole matter are entirely 
negligible, and, indeed, thoroughly mistaken and mis- 
leading. ShadweU's version was re-issued quarto 1676, 
i690,';^i695, 1701, and frequently during the eighteenth 


xii Shakespeare Adaptations 

century. The edition of The Tempest {price 8^.) in the 
collection called " English Plays " [Neatly & correctly 
printed, in small volumes fit for the pocket, & sold by T. 
Johnson, Bookseller in the Hague), and advertised under 
Shakespeare's name, " altered by Davenant & Dryden," 
contains, it is true, more of the comedy than most 
editions supply, although even in this case Shadwell's 
elaborate scenic directions are freely interpolated 
throughout, and the text is very faulty, whole lines and 
speeches having been carelessly dropped. 

Of the 1670 quarto of the Davenant and Dryden 
comedy there are two issues. The first can be distin- 
guished by the following points, viz., in the first issue 
the name at the end of the preface is spelt Driden, in 
the second issue Dryden. In the preface, Davenant in 
first issue, D'avenant in second. Page 2, line 32, V all's 
in first issue, corrected to Viall's in second. Page 3, line 
16, sttar-board in first issue, corrected to star-board in 
second. In the first issue the pagination of page 7 is 
mis-printed 5. 

It would almost seem that the 1670 quarto can only 
have been most cursorily revised by Dryden, as many 
passages, which are manifestly blank verse, are printed 
as stark prose; e.g., Prospero's speech " Dull thing, I 
say so ; " (p. 20 of this edition : 4to, p. 10) ; and again 
the beginning of Act III, " Excuse it not, Miranda," 
in which case the quarto (p. 21) haphazardly alternates, 
frDm speech to speech, between a pell-mell jumble of 
prose and verse. In these exceptional instances I have 
not hesitated to set as verse. 

It is not impertinent here to notice a curious disposi- 
tion of lines which may be found in other plays, e.g., in 
Shadwell's The Sullen Lovers, 4to, 1668 ; and Etherege's 
The Man of Mode ; or. Sir Fopling Flutter, 4to, 1676 ; 
prose comedies, where the printed speeches are often cut 
up, as it were, into blank verse, although being pure 

Prefatory Note xiii 

prose they have neither the rhythm nor the scansion of 
poetry. This arrangement is varied, quite irregularly, 
with the normal setting of plain prose. So far as I know, 
no satisfactory explanation of these oddities has been 
yet suggested. 

Thomas Duffett's burlesque The Mock-Tempest ; or. 
The Enchanted Castle has never been before reprinted. 
The quarto, 1675, is of excessive rarity. 

It has not till now been recognized that of this quarto 
there are two issues which can be distinguished by the 
following points, viz., in the first issue we have at the 
conclusion of Act IV a misprint (4to, p. 42, 1. 5 ; of this 
edition, p. 158, 1. 21), The End of the Second Act, cor- 
rected in the second issue to The End of the Fourth Act. 
In the first issue again. Act V. scene I (4to, p. 42, 1. 26, 
and p. 43, 1. 13 ; of this edition, p. 159, 1. 12 and 1. 34), 
Ariel's two echoes "Thou art the very Devil" and 
"Alas poor Codshead," are clean omitted; whilst the 
last four words of Quakero's speech which begins, 
" Nay, but I will not . . ." are misprinted " as Poo Cod 
said," corrected in the second issue to "as Poor Cod 
said." In Act V, scene i (4to, p. 44, 1. 15; of this 
edition, p. 161, 1. 3), the first issue reads "foUowe'd," 
the second "foUow'd": in Act V, scene 2 (4to, p. 44, 
1. 27; of this edition, p. 161, 1. 14), the first issue has 
"the sneer," the second "thee sneer": in Act V, 
scene 2 (4to, p. 48, 1. 11 ; of this edition, p. 165, 1. 31), 
the first issue reads " that is to sayo be pacified," the 
second, "that is to say, be pacified." In " The Scene 
•of Bridewell," Act V, 2, both issues read as speech- 
prefix (4to, p. 50, 1. 17) to As big as thy Thumb (4to, 
p. 51, 1. i) " Foran," and to By thy Beard and thy 
Wigg " Faran." In Duffett's first draft of his burlesque 
■Quakero was probably called by some name that closely 
resembled Ferdinand, the role in The Tempest which is 
parodied, and when our author rechristened the char- 

xiv Shakespeare Adaptations 

acter he, no doubt, forgot to alter the speech-prefix in 
these two instances. Both issues of the quarto supply- 
after the Persons Represented the list of nine errata. 

Nahum Tate's The History of King Lear was reprinted 
quarto 1699 (price is.), and again in 1712. There are also 
a number of later eighteenth century reprints, but most 
of these must be described as worthless. Many verbal 
changes have crept in, and sometimes considerable 
passages (and these none of the least important) are 
found to have disappeared. 

None of the pieces given in the present volume has 
before been edited. In each case very obvious misprints 
— e.g. of this edition, p. 212, 1. 32, " the poor old King 
bareheaded," where the quartos 1681 and 1699 read 
" the poor old King beheaded " — and turned letters are 
sUently corrected. I have not, however, in any instance 
beyond these ventured to tamper with the spelling, 
although Duffett's vagaries in this direction will often 
seem unnecessarily erratic. Nevertheless, I am con- 
vinced that by accommodating authors to modern 
norms and fashions something even more valuable than 
old-time flavour and atmosphere is irretrievably lost. 

It is once more my duty and my pleasure to express 
my most grateful thanks for the kindliest encourage- 
ment throughout, and continual help in dealing with 
many a difficult point to Mr. G. Thorn-Drury, K.C., our 
acknowledged authority on the Restoration period. He 
has again, with his wonted generosity, entrusted me 
with many a rare volume from his library. In particular 
did he lend me his fine copies of the Davenant and 
Dryden comedy The Tempest, quarto, 1670, and of that 
uncommonly scarce play The Mock-Tempest, quarto, 
1675, a loan which materially facilitated my work upon 
these two difficult pieces. 

As Mr. W. J. Lawrence was the first to elucidate in 
print the crux concerning The Tempest in its post-Restora- 

Prefatory Note xv 

tion versions, so must all future workers, who have to dis- 
cuss these alterations of Shakespeare, base their records 
upon his article Did Thomas Shadwell write an Opera on 
" The Tempest " ? the scholarship of which is so ample 
and complete that it leaves nothing to be added thereto. 
In general with every writer on the theatre I am also 
deeply indebted to Mr. Lawrence's researches in many 
another direction, but I have yet further to make a 
personal and particular acknowledgement to our dis- 
tinguished stage historian for much valuable informa- 
tion with which he has ungrudgingly furnished me. 

The complicated story of the music to The Tempest, 
both as a comedy and as an opera, has been related in 
detail by Mr. W. Barclay Squire in " Purcell's Dramatic 
Music," Sammelbdnde of the International Music Society, 
vol. 5 ; and in his more recent article The Music of 
Shadwell's " Tempest," " The Musical Quarterly," Octo- 
ber, 192 1. 

The frontispiece to this edition has been taken from 
the Congreve collection of Dryden's Dramatic Works, 
six volumes with illustrations, 1735, re-issued in 1762. 
Although the text there given (volume II) is Shadwell's 
libretto, nevertheless the scene depicted. Act III, when 
Prospero charms Ferdinand from drawing his sword, is 
the same both in the comedy and in the opera. 

It only remains to add that the portrait of Davenant 
upon the title-page is copied from the Frontispiece to 
the foho, 1673, which was kindly lent by Mr. G. Thorn- 
Drury for the purpose of reproduction. 


SHAKESPEARE, although he did not so exclu- 
sively dominate the Restoration stage with the 
same singular monopoly as he held the theatre of 
the nineteenth century — an exaggeration against which 
there are at the present moment notable signs of an 
intellectual reaction — was nevertheless well and amply 
represented in the reign of Charles II and the monarchs 
immediately succeeding.* For even if in order to 
demonstrate this we had not the Diary of Pepys 
supplemented by the record of Downes, Roscius Angli- 
canus, yet the intimate and judicious appreciation, the 
unbounded admiration of Shakespeare we find in the 
prefaces and essays of the greatest of aU English 
critical writers, John Dryden, the constant allusions to, 
and apt quotations from, the plays, not merely Hamlet, 
Macbeth, Othello, but The Merry Wives of Windsor, The 
Taming of the Shrew, and Love's Labour's Lost, which 
we meet in the pages of such prohfic authors as Edward 
Howard and D'Urfey, Winstanley and Ward, are 
sufficient evidence of the popularity of Shakespeare at 
that time and the close attention with which his works 
were generally being read.f 

Indeed, it may be broadly affirmed that the reason- 
able and reasoning love of the seventeenth century for 

* Cf. also at a little later date Pope's Imitations of Horace 
(1738), the First Epistle of the Second Book : 

" Shakespear (whom you and ev'ry Play-house bill 
Style the divine, the matchless, what you;will.)" 
t There has recently (1920) been pubUshed a work of wide 
research and great value. Some Seventeenth Century Allusions to 
Shakespeare and his Works, Not Hitherto Collected, compiled by 
G. Thom-Drury, Esq., K.C. 


xviii Shakespeare Adaptations 

Shakespeare hardly differed from the enthusiasm of the 
nineteenth century in degree, only the poets and play- 
goers of that day did not narrowly give their applause 
to Shakespeare alone, but were also equally familiar 
with the masterpieces of Ben Jonson, the great tragedies 
of Webster, the fifty brilliant dramas that conveniently 
go under the names of Beaumont and Fletcher, 

Immediately upon the Restoration the remnant of the 
older actors who had survived the Commonwealth, 
Charles Hart, Michael Mohun, William Cartwright, John 
Lacy, Walter Clun, Nicholas Burt, Robert and WiUiam 
Shatterel, William Wintersell, Bateman, Baxter, and 
others of less note, joined themselves into a Company, 
and began to give public performances at the Red BuU, 
an unroofed Elizabethan playhouse, situated in John 
Street, Clerkenwell. Thus was formed the nucleus of 
the King's Company, which was definitely so con- 
stituted under the managership of Thomas KiUigrew by 
an of&cial document from the Lord Chamberlain dated 

6 October 1660.* On Thursday, 8 November, the King's 
Company! opened at their new Vere Street theatre, 
which is described by Mr. W. J. Lawrence as " the last 

* Charles II had two months previously given a Grant (21 
August 1660) to KiUigrew and Davenant, which empowered 
them to " Erect two Companies of Players," and by which they 
also enjoyed the fullest rights of censorship. This was contested 
by Sir Henry Herbert and considerable difficulty ensued. 

f It would seem that for about a couple of months, September 
and October 1660, there was an amalgamation of Rhodes' 
Cockpit Company and the Red BuU actors. When Davenant 
formed his separate company (the agreement is dated 5 Novem- 
ber 1660), Edward Kynaston, the young prentice who originaUy 
acted women's parts and was, according to Pepys, "the loveUest 
lady that ever I saw in my life," remained with KiUigrew. On 

7 January 1660-61, K5Tiaston was playing Epicoene at Vere 

Introduction xix 

constructed house of the Ehzabethan order."* It was 
an oblong roofed building and stood in Gibbon's Tennis 
Court at Bear Yard, Vere Street, Clare Market. " There 
they continued for a year or two, and then removed to 
the Theatre Royal in Drury Lane, where they first 
made use of scenes, which had been a little before 
introduced upon the publick stage by Sir William 
D'Avenant, at the duke's old theatre in Lincoln's-inn- 
fields, but afterwards very much improved, with the 
addition of curious machines by Mr. Betterton at the 
New Theatre in Dorset Garden to the great expense and 
continual charge of the players. "| 

It should be noticed that, as Mr. W. J. Lawrence has 
pointed out in scholarly and exact detail, the first Drury 
Lane theatre which was burned down on Thursday, 
25 January 1672, was never known as such during the 
nine years of its existence. It stood in Bridges Street 
and Russell Street, and both the first and second 
Theatre Royal are termed either The Theatre Royal in 
Covent Garden ; or, mostly in legal nomenclature, the 
Theatre Royal in Bridges Street. In 1682 the second 
Theatre Royal is described in an official document as 
" in or neare Covent Garden commonly called the King's 
Playhouse." The term Drury Lane dates from about 
1690, although for convenience theatrical historians 
often refer to the first Theatre Royal as the first Drury 
Lane theatre. 

* Mr. Lawrence emphasizes the fact that " from first to last 
scenery was never used at Vere Street " [Elizabethan Playhouse, 
II, p. 139). Indeed, the old Elizabethan title boards were stiU in 
use. In a revival of Dabome's The Poor Man's Comfort, 28 May 
1661, the speaker of the Prologue is directed to " Enter reading 
the Title, 

" The Poor Man's Comfort, this Title some wiU say 
Is fitter for a Pray'r-book then a Play." 
t J. Wright, Historia Histrionica (1699). 

XX Shakespeare Adaptations 

Among the repertory of the Red Bull were Henry IV, 
The Merry Wives of Windsor, and Othello. The last 
piece to be acted at this house on Wednesday, 7 Novem- 
ber, was Fletcher's Beggar's Bush, and the following 
afternoon the new Vere Street theatre opened with 
Henry IV. No doubt the cast was that given by Downes : 
Henry IV, Wintersell ;* Prince Hal, Burt ; Hotspur, 
Hart; Falstaff , Cartwright ; Poins, Shatterel. It proved 
a great favourite with Restoration audiences and is 
several times mentioned by Pepys, who judged it " a 
good play." On Monday, 31 December 1660, having 
bought the book in S. Paul's Churchyard he went to 
Vere Street, " the new Theatre," and saw it acted. 
" But my expectation being too great, it did not please 
me, as otherwise I believe it would ; and my having a 
book, I believe did spoil it a little." On another occasion, 
seven years later (Saturday, 2 November 1667), he went 
to the Theatre Royal, Bridges Street, " and there saw 
' Henry the Fourth ' : and contrary to expectation 
was pleased in nothing more than in Cartwright's 
speaking of Falstaffe's f speech about ' What is Hon- 

On Friday, 9 November 1660, the second day of acting 
at Vere Street, The Merry Wives of Windsor was given. 
On Wednesday, 5 December following, Pepys, who saw 

* Thirty years later the King was acted by Kynaston, who 
then excelled in this role. " There is a grave and rational 
majesty in Shakespeare's Henry the Fourth. . . . This true 
majesty Kynaston had so entire a command of, that when he 
whispered the following plain hne to Hotspur 

' Send us your prisoners, or you'll hear of it!' 
he conveyed a more terrible menace in it than the loudest 
intemperance of voice could swell to" (Gibber, Apology, chap. V). 
Wintersall died in July 1679. 

t Langbaine, speaking of Falstaff, tells us : " This part used 
to be played by Mr. Lacy, and never failed of applause." 

Introduction xxi 

this comedy, expresses himself as not at all satisfied with 
the acting : "the humours of the country gentleman 
and the French doctor very well done, but the rest very 
poorly, and Sir J. Falstaffe as bad as any." In all 
probabiHty Cartwright was the Falstaff, but there is no 
record of the representatives of Shallow and Dr. Caius. 
On Wednesday, 25 September 1661, Pepys again saw 
The Merry Wives at Vere Street, " ill done " ; whilst on 
Thursday, 15 August 1667, when it was acted at the 
Theatre Royal he notes it " did not please me at all, in 
no part of it." 

Saturday, 8 December 1660, is a date of particular in- 
terest in the history of the English theatre, as on that day 
The More of Venice was acted at Vere Street, and it 
may well be that this was the occasion when the first 
EngHsh actress appeared. Unfortunately, although 
there is the strongest presumption, we are not able to 
speak with absolute certainty on this important point. 
However, it was at Vere Street on Thursday, 3 January 
1661, that Pepys first " saw women come upon the 
stage " in Beggar's Bush. On Tuesday, the twentieth 
of the preceding November, he had witnessed a per- 
formance of the same comedy played entirely by a male 
cast. Within that six weeks then our first professional 
actress* made her appearance in the part of Desdemona. 
The role we know from Thomas Jordan's A Prologue] 
to introduce the first Woman that came to Act on the Stage 
in the Tragedy, call'd The Moor of Venice : 

* Mrs. Coleman, " a pleasant jolly woman," wife of Edward 
Coleman, sang in recitative lanthe when the First Part of Dave- 
nant's The Siege of Rhodes was performed at Rutland House in 
1656. She cannot, however, be claimed to have been the first 
EngHsh actress in any real sense of the term. In after years she 
was anxious to repudiate any connection with the theatre. 

t First printed in A Royal Arbor of Loyal Poesie Consisting 
of Poems and Songs. . . . Composed by The. J. (1664). 

xxii Shakespeare Adaptations 

" I come, unknown to any of the rest 
To tell you news, I saw the Lady drest ; 
The Woman playes to day, mistake me not. 
No Man in Gown, or Page in Petty-Coat ; 
A Woman to my knowledge, yet I cann't 
(If I should dye) make Affidavit on't. 
Do you not twitter Gentlemen ? I know 
You will be censuring, do't fairly though. 
'Tis possible a vertuous woman may 
Abhor all sorts of looseness, and yet play ; 
Play on the Stage, where all eyes are upon her. 
Shall we count that a crime France calls an honour : 
In other Kingdoms Husbands safely trust 'um. 
The difference lies onely in the custom ; 
And let it be our custom I advise, 
I'm sure this Custom's better then th'Excise, 
And may procure us custom, hearts of flint 
Will melt in passion when a woman's in't. 
But Gentlemen you that as judges sit 
In the Star-Chamber of the House the Pit ; 
Have modest thoughts of her ; pray do not run 
To give her visits when the Play is done, 
With dam me, your most humble Servant Lady, 
She knows these things as weU as you it may be : 
Not a bit there dear Gallants, she doth know 
Her own deserts and your temptations too. 
But to the point, in this reforming age 
We have intents to civihze the Stage. 
Our women are defective, and so siz'd 
You'd think they were some of the Guard disguiz'd ; 
For (to speak truth) men act, that are between 
Forty and fifty, Wenches of fifteen ; 
With bone so large, and nerve so incomplyant, 
When you call Desdemona, enter Giant. 
We shall purge every thing that is unclean. 
Lascivious, scurrilous, impious or obscene ; 

Introduction xxiii 

And when we've put all things in this fair way 
Barehones himself may come and see a Play." 
The epilogue is equally pertinent. 

" Epilogue. 

And how d'ye hke her, come what is't ye drive at. 

She's the same thing in pubhck as in private ; 

As far from being what you call a Whore, 

As Desdemona injur'd by the Moor ? 

Then he that censures her in such a case 

Hath a soul blacker than Othello's face : 

But Ladies what think you, for if you tax 
Her freedom with dishonour to your Sex, 

She means to act no more and this shall be 

No other Play but her own Tragedy ; 

She will submit to none but your commands. 

And take Commission onely from your hands." 

In his Roscius Anglicanus Downes supplies us with 
the following cast of Othello : Brabantio, Cartwright ; 
Moor, Burt; Cassio, Hart; lago, Mohun; Roderigo, 
Beeston; Desdemona, Mrs. Hughes; Emilia, Mrs. 
Rutter. Arguing from this it is often asserted that Mrs. 
Hughes was the actress for whom Jordan's prologue was 
written, and there is every probabHity such was the 
case. At the same time several points needing carefiol 
consideration arise in connection with the actors as here 
listed. It is demonstrably not in every particular the 
cast of Othello as first revived in the post-Restoration 
theatre. Walter Clun, who was murdered by footpads 
in a Tottenham Court lane on Tuesday night, 2 August 
1664, originally played lago, a role he made peculiarly 
his own. Clun, who in the reign of Charles I had been 
greatly applauded as a representative of female char- 
acters, in the summer of 1660 was acting at the Red 
Bull ; and upon its formation he at once took a recog- 
nized position as a leading member of the King's 

xxiv Shakespeare Adaptations 

Company. It was not, of course, until after Clun's death 
that Michael Mohun succeeded to lago. On Saturday, 6 
February 1668-9, Pepys went to the Theatre Royal, and 
" did see ' The Moor of Venice ' : but ill acted in most 
parts; Mohun, which did a little surprise me, not 
acting lago's part by much so well as Clun used to do ; 
nor another* Hart's, which was Cassio's ; nor, indeed, 
Burt doing the Moor's so well as I once thought he did." 
The writer of An Egley Upon The Most Execrable 
Murther of Mr. Clun\ after praising his Bessus, Falstaff , 
Humorous Lieutenant, and other characters, exclaims 
as a climax : 

" O! but lago, when we think on thee. 
Not to applaud thy vice of Flattery; 
Yet must that Part never in our thoughts dye, 
Since thou didst Act, not mean that Subtilty." 

Downes, moreover, informs us that Beeston did not 
come " into the Company 'tiU after they had begun in 
Drury-Lane," that is, the opening of the Theatre Royal, 
7 May 1663; and there is some doubt whether Mrs. 
Rutter appeared on the stage until the same date. It 
must be borne in mind, however, that, as Mr. W. J. 
Lawrence has so usefully emphasized, " through sloven- 

* This was Kynaston's understudy. On Saturday, 30 January, 
Ksmaston appeared in The Heiress, a new play. The role, 
however, was " in abuse to Sir Charles Sedley," and on the 
following night the young actor was " exceedingly beaten with 
sticks by two or three that assaulted him, so as he is mightily 
bruised, and forced to keep his bed." Charles II was furious 
with Sedley, who denied in vain any complicity. Kjmaston 
returned to the theatre on Monday, 8 February, when he acted 
the King of Tidore in The Island Princess " very weU." 

t Reprinted by Mr. Thom-Drury in A Little Ark containing 
Seventeoith-Century Verse (1921). 

Introduction xxv 

liness of arrangement " the Roscius Anglicanus, which 
was not published until 1708, " is positively honey- 
combed with error. It is the perspective of the thing 
that is wholly wrong. In other words, the events 
related mostly took place, but seldom in the sequence 
indicated."* We know that Downes blundered badly 
about so important a date as the opening of the Theatre 
Royal, and we must not too confidently rely upon his^ 
knowledge, which had to be obtained second hand,! of 
the intimate workings of the King's Company, especially 
in the earher years of its existence. 

It is not improbable that when Mrs. HughesJ played 
Desdemona at Vere Street in December 1660, her 
Emilia was a young actor. Something of an experiment 
was being essayed, and however successful with the 
town, for the first few weeks at any rate it would hardly 
be possible to train and rehearse actresses for every 
female role. As Cibber says : " Though . . . women 
were not admitted to the stage till the return of King 
Charles, yet it could not be so suddenly supplied with 
them, but that there was still a necessity, for some 
time, to put the handsomest young men into petticoats, 

* The Elizabethan Playhouse, I, p. 193. 

t " Having the Account from Mr. Charles Booth, sometimes 
Book-keeper " at the Theatre Royal. 

t Curll's assertion that Mrs. Nonris was our first professional 
actress is mere invention. Davies, Dramatic Miscellanies, II, 
p. 364, writes : " The first woman-actress was the grandmother 
of Norris, commonly called Jubilee Dicky." There are two bad 
errors here. Mrs. Norris was a member of Davenant's company, 
and it was her son who was known as Jubilee Dicky from his 
superlative performance in Farquhar's The Constant Couple 
(1699). See the present editor's Mrs. Behn, I, p. 445. It has 
been ineptly claimed that Mrs. Betterton was our first actress. 
Bellchambers' suggestion of Mrs. Ann Marshall is also entirely 

xxvi Shakespeare Adaptations 

which Kynaston* was then said to have worn with 
success ; particularly in the part of Evadne, in ' The 
Maid's Tragedy,' which I have heard him speak of . . ." 
{Apology, chapter v). 

With reference to the fact that for a little while after 
the appearance of actresses " heroines of the stage were 
still occasionally impersonated by men," Dutton Cook 
in his A Book of the Play, chapter xvi, " Her First 
Appearance," gives so unfortunate and inapposite an 
example that it must not stand without correction. He 
cites the appearance of Kynaston as Epiccene in Ben 
Jonson's comedy of that name. But the whole point of 
the play turns upon the fact that Epiccene is a lad 
disguised as a woman, and the climax is the discovery 
'•of his real sex. Says Pepys, who saw the piece on 
Monday, 7 January 1660-1 : " It is an excellent play.' 
Among other things here, Kinaston, the boy, had the 
good turn to appear in three shapes: first, as a poor 
woman in ordinary clothes, to please Morose ; then, in 
fine clothes, as a gallant, and in them was clearly the 
prettiest woman in the whole house, and lastly, as a 
man ; and then likewise did appear the handsomest man 
in the house." It is true that Downes gives a cast of 
Epiccene with Kynaston as Dauphine and Mrs. Knepp as 
Epiccene. But it is incomprehensible why the title-role 
should have been assigned to a woman. The denouement 
can but have fallen absolutely fiat. Yet we find that 
throughout the eighteenth century Mrs. Oldfield, Mrs. 
Pritchard, and other actresses made the same siUy 
mistake of attempting this part. When, under Garrick's 

* On Saturday, 18 August 1660, Pepys saw The Loyal Subject. 
Kynaston acted Olympia, and " made the loveliest lady that 
ever I saw in my life." It is interesting to notice that in this 
drama a lad, young Archas, is until the Fifth Act disguised as 
a girl, Alinda. 

In The Maid's Tragedy the great Evadne of Restoration days 
was Rebecca MarshalL 

Introduction xxvii 

auspices, Epicosne, with some re-arrangement and a few- 
alterations by Colman, was revived at Drury Lane, 13 
January 1776, Mrs. Siddons was cast for the title-role, 
which she played thrice, 13, 15, and 17 January. On 
the twenty-third it was wisely given to Lamash, an 
elegant young actor of rising merit.* But the mischief 
had been done. As Gifford weU writes : " This comedy 
. . . failed of success from a singular circumstance : the 
managers most injudiciously gave the part of Epicoene 
to a woman; so that when she threw off her female 
attire in the last act, and appeared as a boy, the whole 
cunning of the scene was lost, and the audience felt 
themselves rather trifled with than surprised. Garrick 
was immediately sensible of his error and attempted to 
remedy it by a different cast of the parts ; but it was 
too late." It is incredible that in the face of this lesson 
when Jonson's play was acted at Covent Garden, 26 
April 1784, for Edwin's benefit, Mrs. Bates undertook 
Epicoene. The result was as might have been foretold. 
It would appear that some years before his retirement 
from the stage, which event took place early in 1678, 
Burt I resigned the part of OtheUo to Charles Hart. The 
following castt is probably that of Othello as acted at 
the second Theatre Royal, which opened 26 March, 

* Lamash was the original Trip in The School for Scandal, 
Drury Lane, 8 May 1777 ; and the Justice's Son in Ths Critic, 
30 October 1779. 

t Burt may have died in the spring of 1678. The last role in 
which his name can be traced is Maldrin in Edward Howard's 
The Man of Newmarket (4to, 1678), which was produced in 
February-March 1678, and licensed for printing, 13 April, 
though not in Term Catalogues until 6 December. 

X In the British Museum copy of the 1695 quarto, a contem- 
porary hand has recorded that Othello was acted at the Theatre 
Royal, "21 May, Fryday, 1703." Othello, Batterton; Cassio, 
Powell; lago, Verbruggen; Roderigo, Pack; Desdemona, Mrs. 
Bracegirdle; Emilia, Mrs. Lee. 

xxviii Shakespeare Adaptations 

1674: Duke of Venice, Lydal; Brabantio, Cartwright; 
Gratiano, Griffin; Lodovico, Will Harris; Othello, 
Hart ; lago, " Standard-bearer to the Moor ; a Villain," 
Mohun ; Cassio, Kynaston ; Roderigo, " a foolish 
Gentleman that foUows the Moor in hopes to Cuckold 
him," Beeston ; Montano, Watson ; Clown, Joe Haines ; 
Desdemona, Mrs. Cox; Emilia, Mrs. Rutter; Bianca, 
Mrs. James; Downes, Cibber, and other writers extol 
the supreme greatness and grandeur of Hart as the 

In Julius Caesar, which was produced at the first 
Theatre Royal, Hart won equal renown. Mohun played 
Cassius to his Brutus, in which roles the two friends, 
" our Aesopus and Roscius," as Rymer calls them, were 
considered by the critics of the day to be inimitable, 
and have never, if we may believe theatrical annals, 
been approached, much less surpassed. Kynaston acted 
Mark Antony, Mrs. Marshall, Calphurnia, and Mrs. 
Corbet, Portia. 

A Midsummer-Night's Dream was produced at Vere 
Street in September 1662, but although some good 
dancing was introduced as a special attraction it does 
not appear that the play drew the town. Downes 
chronicles an early revival of Titus Andronicus in which, 
as Genest suggests, Tamora was probably acted by Mrs. 

In November 1663, as we know from Sir Henry 
Herbert's accounts. The Taming of the Shrew was 
revived by Killigrew. It will be noticed that the King's 
Company played Shakespeare without adaptation, 
indeed the only Shakespearean alteration given at the 
Theatre Royal seems to have been Lacy's Sauny the 
Scot, a version of this comedy, which was produced 
Easter Tuesday, 9 April 1667. Sauny the Scot is a good 
bustling farce. The dialogue of the original is shortened 
and converted into prose throughout ; the Induction 

Introduction xxix 

is wholly omitted;* the fifth act, which is entirely new, 
has taken something more than a hint from that 
excellent comedy, The Woman's Prize; the scene is 
changed from Padua to London ; and Sauny,f " Petru- 
chio's Scotch Footman," makes a considerable character, 
Pepys, who was present at the first performance, 
remarks: "the best part ' Sawny,' done by Lacy, J 
hath not half its life, by reason of the words, I suppose, 
not being understood, at least by me." Maidment and 
Logan, who ought to speak with authority on the 
point, say that " the language of Sauny ... is not 
Scotch in its idiom or apparent pronunciation, but 
savours strongly of the meridian of Doncaster, Lacy's 

It should be remarked that, so far as is recorded, 
during the twenty years which directly followed the 
Restoration the plays of Shakespeare performed at 
Vere Street and the Theatre Royal were, with the single 
exception of Sauny the Scot, given as originally written, 
whilst in that same period Davenant's company pro- 
duced no fewer than nine known alterations and 
adaptations. Such a record cannot be the result of mere 
chance or accident, and the fact that the King's House 

* In the Prologue to Ravenscroft's The London Cuckolds, 
produced at the Duke's Theatre in the winter of 1681, Chris- 
topher Sly is alluded to, a reference which must have been 
weU-known to the audience. Perhaps the original The Taming 
of the Shrew, with the Induction, had again been recently per- 

f Perhaps suggested by Sander in The Taming of A Shrew. 

X Wheatley, who is doubtless correct, says that Sauny is the 
Scotch figure in Michael Wright's picture of Lacy in three roles, 
done upon one canvas. This painting is now at Hampton Court. 
Langbaine and Aubrey, who have been often followed, state 
that this figure is Teague in The Committee. But see Evelyn, 
3 October 1662. 

XXX Shakespeare Adaptations 

played Shakespeare without tamperings and trimmings 
I inchne to attribute to the influence and judgement of 
Charles Hart,* who was (if one may hazard an opinion 
not unduly speculative) the greatest and most sublime 
actor who has ever graced any stage. My attention has 
been drawn by Mr. Thorn-Drury to certain lines in a 
lampoon " To Mr. Julian, "f whence it would appear 
that, temporarily, Shakespeare was not popular in the 
theatre : 

" None that come within the Verge of Sense, 
Have to Preferment now the least pretence. 
Nay Poets, guilty of that Treason prov'd. 
Are by a general Hiss from Court remov'd. 
Shakespear himself reviv'd, finds no success. 
And living Authors sure must hope for less." 

This pasquil may be dated circa 1680, about which 
time Hart, J " by reason of his malady; being afflicted 
with the Stone and Gravel," had already begun to 
make far less frequent appearances than formerly, 
whilst, as Cibber tells us, the younger actors, especially 
Cardell Goodman and Clark, were impatient to divide 
his characters between them, leaving inferior roles to 
newcomers such as Saunders, Disney, Perin, and Coysh. 
Mohun also, crueUy crippled with gout, was on the eve 
of It was not likely that audiences who 

* Hart's relationship to Shakespeare is often asserted, but no 
proof is forthcoming. 

t Poems on Affairs of State, vol. Ill C1704). P- 141- 

X Hart died Thursday, 18 August 1683. See " An Elegy On 
that Worthy and Famous Actor, Mr. Charles Hart," reprinted in 
A Little Ark. 

I! Mohun's name does not appear after the Union in November 
1682. He created Burleigh in Banks' The Unhappy Favourite 
at the Theatre Royal in the autumn of 1681, and his last recorded 
original part (perhaps his last appearance) was Ismael in 
Southeme's The Loyal Brother, produced in the spring of 1682. 

Introduction xxxi 

had applauded Hart as Othello and Brutus would accept 
Clark in these parts. The stage languished, and for a 
while the Theatre Royal played even Shakespeare to 
empty houses. 

When Sir WiUiam Davenant formed from Rhodes' 
Cockpit players his new company which began to act at 
Sahsbury Court (a quasi-EHzabethan roofed theatre 
erected on the site of the old granary of Dorset House, 
near Fleet Street), on 15 November 1660, a curious 
regulation was shortly made by which certain plays 
were assigned to him as his own particular property. 
Amongst these the following by Shakespeare were 
named: The Tempest, Measure Joy Measure, Much Ado 
ahout Nothing, Romeo and Juliet, Twelfth Night, Henry 
VIII, King Lear, Macbeth, Hamlet, and for two months 
from the date of the permission, Pericles. These he 
proposed " to reform and make fitt for the Company of 
Actors appointed under his direction and command." 
With such material Davenant soon set to work and 
before long produced The Law Against Lovers, the 
sorriest amalgamation of Measure for Measure and 
Much Ado about Nothing. Benedick has become brother 
to Angelo, and Beatrice, a relative of Claudio's Juliet, 
owns a sister Viola, " very young " and very imper- 
tinent, who enters " dancing a saraband, awhile with 
castanietos." Pepys, who saw The Law Against Lovers 
on Tuesday, 18 February 1661-2, thought it "a good play 
and well performed, especially the little girl's (whom I 
never saw act before) dancing and singing." 

Downes notes that Betterton was " highly applauded" 
as Pericles. This play had been produced at the Cockpit 
under Rhodes' management. 

He died in the first week of October 1684. The register of S. 
Giles in the Fields records the burial of " Mr. Michael Moon of 
Brownlow Street, 11 October 1684." 

xxxii Shakespeare Adaptations 

Late in June* 1661, Davenant's company opened 
their newly-built theatre, the Duke's House, situated 
on Lisle's tennis-court, which extended from the back 
of Portugal Row, on the south side of Lincoln's Inn 
Fields, to Portugal Street. It was a small and incon- 
venient theatre, yet it was here that scenery first came 
into public and regular use. In the words of Mr. W. J. 
Lawrence : " The picture-stage era undoubtedly began 
with the opening of the new Duke's Theatre in Lincoln's 
Inn Fields late in June, 1661, when The Siege of Rhodes 
was revived."t 

The first Shakespearean play to be given on the 
picture-stage was Hamlet. " The Tragedy of Hamlet, 
Hamlet being performed by Mr. Betterton : Sir William 
(having seen Mr. Taylor, of the Black-Fryars Company 
act it ; who being instructed by the Author Mr. Shake- 
spear) taught Mr. Betterton in every particle of it, gain'd 
him esteem and reputation superlative to all other plays. 
Horatio by Mr. Harris ; the King by Mr. Lilliston ; the 
Ghost by Mr. Richards ; (after by Mr. Medburn.) Polonius 
by Mr. Lovel; Rosencrans by Mr. Dixon; Guilderstern 
by Mr. Price; ist Gravemaker by Mr. Underhill; the 
2d. by Mr. Dacres; the Queen by Mr^. Davenport; 
Ophelia by Mrs. Saunderson: No succeeding Tragedy 
for several years got more reputation or money to the 
Company than this."| Hamlet was one of Betterton's 
greatest roles. Pepys, Saturday, 24 August 1661, 
writes : " Straight to the Opera [the Duke's House] and 
there saw ' Hamlet, Prince of Denmark,' done with 
scenes very well, but above all Betterton did the prince's 
part beyond imagination." Cibber, Steele, Rowe, 
Anthony Aston write with an admiration that is almost 

* The day of the month is unfortunately not known. 
t The Elizabethan Playhouse, II, p. 138. 
I Rose us Anglicanus. 

Introduction xxxiii 

lyric of Betterton's performance. Hamlet was probably 
this great actor's masterpiece. He played it on Tuesday, 
20 September 1709, and though he was then nearly 
seventy-five years old, the audience saw " the force of 
action in perfection." Nokes presently succeeded Lovel 
as Polonius, and Mrs. Ann ShadweU followed Mrs. 
Davenport as Gertrude. It may be mentioned that the 
quarto Hamlet of 1676 is especially interesting for This 
Play being too long to he conveniently Acted, such places 
as might he least prejudicial to the Plot or Sense, are left 
out upon the Stage : hut that we may no way wrong the 
incomparahle Author, are here inserted according to the 
Original Copy with this Mark ". 

On Wednesday, 11 September 1661, Twelfth Night was 
revived before a brilliant audience which included the 
King. It " had mighty success by its well performance." 
Betterton played Sir Toby ; Henry Harris, Aguecheek ; 
Cave Underbill, Feste; Lovel, Malvolio; and Ann 
Gibbs,* Olivia. " All the Parts being justly acted 
crown'd the Play." Downes notes that It was got up on 
purpose to be acted on Twelfth Night, and as Pepys saw 
it on 6 January 1662-3, " acted well, though it be 
but a silly play, and not related at all to the name or 
day," this is • doubtless the occasion to which our 
theatrical chronicler refers. 

Romeo and Juliet was produced at Lincoln's Inn 
Fields on Saturday, i March 1661-2. Pepys, who was 
present, Hked it even worse than Twelfth Night, but one 
must remember that just after his midday dinner the 
diarist had had a sharp quarrel with his uncle Thomas, 
" a close cunning feUow," who was giving trouble about 
an annuity, and the day before he had been considerably 
vexed by his boy whom he soundly thrashed for laziness 
and general insubordination. Moreover, the actors were 

* She married ShadweU the poet. 

xxxiv Shakespeare Adaptations 

anything but word perfect, and the prompter was 
continually in request. Nevertheless it was a very strong 
cast. Henry Harris, a prime favourite with the King and 
the Duke of York — two excellent judges of acting — and 
who was being " cried up " by the town even above 
Betterton, played Romeo, and one cannot believe that 
this graceful and handsome young fellow, whose 
dressing-room was the rendezvous of half the wits and 
gallants in the town, could be ineffective as the ardent 
Itahan amoroso. Mrs. Saunderson was Juliet, and 
Betterton, Mercutio.- The serving men, Sampson and 
Gregory, fell to the lot of Samuel Sandford and Cave 
Underbill, each of whom was possessed of a fund of 
dry caustic humour. Friar Laurence was acted by 

A few years later, a son of the Earl of Berkshire, the 
Hon. James Howard, a dramatist of some repute in his 
day,* turned Romeo and Juliet into a tragi-comedy, and 
at the end of the fifth act rescued both lovers, to marry, 
we may presume, and to live happily ever after, f By 
a curious arrangement " when the Tragedy was reviv'd 
again 'twas play'd alternately, tragically one day, and 
tragicomical another, for several days together." 
Howard's alteration has not been printed, but it must 
have been in this version that the character of Count 

* His two comedies, The English Monsieur (seen by Pepys, 
8 December 1666) and All Mistaken (Pepys, 20 September 1667), 
Theatre Royal plays, were very popular. In each of these Hart 
and Nell Gwyn had original parts. The English Monsieur is 
parodied in The Rehearsal. All Mistaken was acted before 
Charles H at Trinity College, Cambridge, in 1667. The comic 
scenes, sometimes of a Rabelaisian humour, are undeniably 

t Otway incorporated much of Romeo and Juliet in his 
History and Fall of Caius Marius, produced at the Duke's House 
in the autumn of 1679. 

Introduction xxxv 

Paris' Wife appeared.* This role was acted by Mrs. 
Holden, concerning whom Downes tells an anecdote, 
which although it " put the House into such a laughter, 
that London-Bridge at low- water was silent to it " is 
now unquotable. 

In November 1663, Sir Henry Herbert, in his accounts, 
notes a payment of one pound for a " Revived Play. 
Mackbethe," and this date is accordingly to be fixed as 
that of the earUest revival of Shakespeare's great 
tragedy upon the post-Restoration stage. It must not 
for a moment be supposed, as is often believed to be the 
case, that Davenant was by any means the first to 
interpolate and otherwise tamper with Macbeih.\ The 
1623 Folio, our sole authority for the text, definitely 
indicates that alterations had crept in even during 
Shakespeare's own lifetime, or at any rate immediately 
after his death. Two songs were already introduced 
from The Witch. These Davenant in his version retained, 
with the addition of a concerted piece by the witches, 
" Speak, sister, speak," and a second song, " Let's have 
a dance upon the heath," which both occur in a new 
scene written to round off Act II, a meeting between 
Macduff and his wife (a part which has been extensively 

* It is impossible satisfactorily to disentangle Downes' 
narrative. He writes : " There being a Fight and Scuffle in this 
Play between the House of Capulet, and House of Paris. ..." 
It is mere guess-work to suppose that Mrs. Holden acted Lady 
Capulet in Shakespeare's tragedy. (Query : In this case could 
Downes' jest refer to I, 3, 1. 71 ?). One must assume that Mrs. 
Holden played in the Howard version, concerning which, as we 
know nothing beyond the above, it is idle to speculate. 

t The Davenant Macbeth was printed in 1673. The student 
should be warned against the blunders and absurdities of the 
Introduction to Macbeth in the Maidment and Logan Davenant, 
Vol. V. See W. J. Lawrence : " Who wrote the Famous ' Macbeth' 
Music ?" The Elizabethan Playhouse, I, p. 209. 

xxxvi Shakespeare Adaptations 

" written up ") and the weird women, who foretell doom 
in riddling rhymes much in the same way as they had 
once prophesied to Banquo and Macbeth. Betterton 
excelled as Macbeth, whilst " it is related of Mrs. 
Betterton that though Lady Macbeth has been frequently 
well performed, no actress, not even Mrs. Barry, could 
in the smallest degree be compared to her." * William 
Smith played Banquo, but curiously enough Sandford 
appeared as Banquo's ghost. As Smith was a remark- 
ably handsome, tall, and lusty young fellow, whilst 
Samuel Sandford is described as " diminutive and mean 
(being Round-shoulder'd, Meagre-fac'd, Spindle-shank'd, 
Splay-footed, with a sour Countenance and long lean 
Arms)f" the contrast must have been of remarkable 
effect. Macduff was Henry Harris, and his Lady, Mrs. 
Long. J Macbeth long rernained a stock piece at the 
Duke's House, rivalling Hamlet in popularity. It was, 
perhaps, the most frequently seen of Shakespeare's 
tragedies. Davenant's elaborations, the " machines, as 
flyings for the witches, with all the singing and dancing " 
were somewhat broadly parodied by Duffett in the 
burlesque Epilogue to his farce The Empress of Morocco, % 
produced at the King's House in the spring of 1674. 

On Thursday, 10 December 1663, Pepys, calling at 
Wotton the shoemaker's, hears news " of a rare play 
to be acted this week of Sir William Davenant's : the 
story of Henry the Eighth with all his wives." It does 
not appear that Davenant made an alteration in 

* C. Dibdin, Complete History of the English Stage (8vo, 1800) . 

I Anthony Aston, Brief Supplement to Colley Cibber, esq. 
(Svo, 1747?). 

X This famous actress was mistress to the Duke of Richmond. 

§ Settle's tragedy was produced at the Duke's House in the 
winter of 1673. Late in 1673 or in the early months of the 
following year there seems to have been a special revival of 
Macbeth at the same theatre. 

Introduction xxxvii 

Shakespeare and Fletcher's scenes, and by "of Sir 
William Davenant's " is meant no more than that the 
play was to be performed by Davenant's company. 
The smart touch about " all his wives " is doubtless a 
mere bit of irresponsible and imaginative gossip. It is 
just worth while mentioning these details, as some 
writers have needlessly postulated a version of Henry 
VIII by Davenant.* 

In the third week of December, 1663, Henry VIII was 
produced at the Duke's House with such splendour and 
show that the theatre was repeatedly crowded, and the 
magnificence of the production became a theatrical 
tradition. So in The Rehearsal (Theatre Royal, 7 
December 1672) Bayes speaks of the dance of " the 
Angels in Harry the Eight," and when describing the 
tableau he has arranged foV his drama he cries : " I'll 
justifie it to be as grand to the eye every whit, I gad, as 
that great Scene in Harry the Eight, and grander too, 
I gad ; for instead of two Bishops I bring in here four 
Cardinals." And fourteen years laterf in Mrs. Behn's 
The Lucky Chance, Bredwel has a jest about " a broken 
six-penny Looking-Glass, that shew'd as many Faces 
as the Scene in Henry the Eigth." In this scene of the 
procession and assisting crowds a great many faces 
and figures at windows and on balconies were, curiously 
enough, actually painted upon the " releive " back- 
cloth and wings. So panoramic an effect, mixed with 
the actors upon the stage, must have been something 
extraordinary, but the hint, at any rate, was by no 
means a completenovelty. In John Webb's designs for the 
scenery of The Siege of RhodesX we have a shutter scene, 

* E.g. Frederick Hawkins: " ' Henry VIII ' on the Stage." 
English Illustrated Magazine, January 1892. 

t Even if this reference is to a recent revival of Henry VIII 
the point remains the same. 

J Burlington Magazine, CXXXIV, Vol. XXV (May 1914). 

xxxviii Shakespeare Adaptations 

Act I, scene i, a view of Rhodes with the Turkish fleet 
under full sail making towards the city. Act II, scene i, 
" The Towne beseiged," is again a shutter which formed 
the back scene throughout the second act. Here we see 
an encampment of the Turkish army, with its artillery 
delivering a cannonade, whilst out in the bay a block- 
ading force is manoeuvring. Act IV, scene i, shows us 
Mount Philermos and the plain beneath on which the 
Turkish battalias are marshalled. Act V, scene i, a 
shutter, represents tiie city being stormed. Troops are 
advancing in thousands, scaling-ladders are being fixed 
in position, the Knights are stubbornly defending their 

Downes has given us an ample account of the revival 
of Henry VIII. " This Play, by order of Sir William 
Davenant, was all new cloafhed in proper habits : The 
King's was new, and all the Lords, the Cardinals, the 
Bishops, the Doctors, Proctors, Lawyers, Tipstaves, new 
Scenes: The Part of the King was so right and jtistly 
done by Mr. Betterton he being instructed in it by Sir 
William, who had it from Old Mr. Lowen, that had his 
instructions from Mr. Shakespear himself, that I dare 
and wiU aver, none can, or ever will come near him in 
this age, in the performance of that part : Mr. Harris's 
performance of Cardinal Wolsey* was little inferior to 
that, he doing it with such just state, port, and mein, 
that I dare affirm none hitherto has equalled him. 

" The Duke of Buckingham by Mr. Smith ; Norfolk by 
Mr. Nokes ; Suffolk by Mr. Lilliston ; Cardinal Campeius 

* There is a picture by Greenhill of Henry Harris as Cardinal 
Wolsey from which a fine mezzotint has been engraved. The 
robes are theatrically effective, but, as might be expected, very 
inaccurate. In Rowe's Shakespeare (1709) the illustration to 
Henry VIII shows us the King and the Cardinal in traditional 
attire, whilst the attendant lords wear the costume of Queen 
Anne's reign, fuU periwigs, heavy coats, and square-toed shoes. 

Introduction xxxix 

and Cmnmer by Mr. Medburn; Bishop Gardiner by 
M [r.] Underhill; Earl of Surrey by Mr. Young- Lord 
Sands by Mr. Py^ce ; Mrs. Betterton, Oueen Catherine ■ 
Every Part, by the great care of Sii^ William, being 
exactly perform'd ; it being all new cloath'd and new 
scenes; it continued acting 15 days together with 
general applause." The popularity and magnificence, 
however, of Henry VIII were considerably diminished 
by the production at the King's Theatre early in Janu- 
ary 1663-4 of Howard and Dryden's The Indian Queen 
Avith Ann Marshall as Zempoalla. The pomp of the 
Tudor court waned before the blazing splendours of 
Mexico and Peru. 

The Rivals, Davenant's adaptation of Shakespeare 
and Fletcher's The Two Noble Kinsmen, which was seen 
by Pepys at the Duke's House, on Saturday, 10 Septem- 
ber 1664, met with striking success. This was probably 
in no small measure due to the excellent cast, and the 
diarist notes that there was " good acting in it." 
Especially does he commend Betterton and his wife and 
Henry Harris. Downes also singles out Underhill, who 
played Cunopes, the provost's man, and adds : "all the 
Women's Parts admirably acted." According to the 
quarto of 1668, Mrs. Shadwell appeared as HeracHa, 
Mrs. Davis, Celania; Mrs. Long, Leucippe. It was in 
this play that Mrs. Davis sang, " My lodging it is on the 
cold ground," which she performed " so charmingly 
that not long after it raised her from her bed on the cold 
ground to a bed royal." But on 11 January 1668, Mrs. 
Knepp, gossiping with Pepys, told him how Moll Davis 
" is for certain going away from the Duke's house, the 
King being in love with her ; and a Rouse is taken for 
her and furnishing; and she hath a ring given her 
already worth ;f6oo." A simple explanation is that Mrs. 
Betterton originally played Celania, but that this role 
was taken by Moll Davis in a revival of Davenant's 

xl Shakespeare Adaptations 

play during the winter of 1667, and it was then that she 
attracted Charles' notice. 

It is obvious from even the most superficial considera- 
tion of the detailed accounts we are thus able to collect 
from Pepys and the Roscius Anglicanus regarding the 
production of Shakespeare's plays during the first few 
years of the actual reign of Charles II that in the 
Restoration theatre Shakespeare was not only frequently 
acted, but proved exceptionally popular. We must 
further take into consideration the indubitable fact that, 
of several revivals, no record at all has reached us. Nor, 
unless there exist evidence to that effect, can it be 
argued from the production of some alteration or 
sophistication of any one of Shakespeare's plays that 
the original had not been performed of recent years. 
For example, it were quite untenable to maintain that 
because D'Urfey's The Injured Princess, or the Fatal 
Wager, produced at the Theatre Royal in the spring of 
1682, is a mere re-writing of Cymheline, Cymheline itself 
had never been seen by a Restoration audience. We 
know that The Taming of the Shrew was revived at the 
Theatre Royal in 1663, and yet at the same house a 
little more than three years later appeared Lacy's 
adaptation, Sauny the Scot. In the summer of 1685 at 
the Theatre Royal was played D'Urfey's A Common- 
wealth of Women, which is largely borrowed from The 
Sea Voyage. Fletcher's drama was being acted at the 
same house in 1668, and probably later. In the spring 
of 1691 Bussy D'Ambois, a version of Chapman's tragedy 
by D'Urfey, was given at the Theatre Royal. Yet 
Bussy had been one of the favourite roles of Hart, who 
had very frequeittly played it until his retirement some 
ten years before. 

Of all Shakespeare's plays there appears to have been 
none which was revived more often, and which ever 

Introduction xli 

drew more crowded houses than The Tempest, or, to 
speak more precisely, that adaptation of The Tempest 
which has so comphcated and curious a theatrical 

By the regulation of December 1660, The Tempest 
had been assigned as the peculiar property of Davenant's 
company, and in conjunction with Dry den, whom he 
caUed in to assist him, Davenant prepared a ver- 
sion of The Tempest, which, after considerable de- 
lay, was brought out, as a comedy, at the Duke's 
House, Lincoln's Inn Fields, on Thursday, 7 November 

It must here be strongly emphasized that in spite of 
the obstinate insistence of such editors as Dryden has 
met with and of those other critics who still continue to 
attribute the alterations almost wholly to Dryden and 
* who, indeed, often ignoring Davenant altogether, speak 
of Dryden's Tempest, it is to Davenant we owe this 
version of 1667, and Dryden's actual share in the work 
seems to have been of the smallest. The mistake, so long 
and steadfastly perpetuated, arose owing to the fact 
that Davenant died 7 April 1668, and when this version 
of The Tempest was printed quarto 1670, no author's 
name appeared upon the title-page, but the comedy was 
introduced by a preface, dated i December 1669, and 
signed John Dryden. Here, Dryden is at some pains to 
teU us that the character of Hippolito is entirely due to 
Davenant : " The Comical parts of the Saylors were also 
his invention and for the most part his writing." Further- 
more, upon Davenant's death, the play remained the 
property of his widow, who, in conjunction with her son,, 
at once assumed control of the theatre. 

On or about 30 April 1674, there was produced at 
Dorset Gardens an opera by Shadwell which was based 
entirely upon the Davenant-Dryden version of The^ 

xlii Shakespeare Adaptations 

Tempest. It is thus noticed by Downes :* " The Tempest, 
or Inchanted Island ; made into an Opera by Mr. Shad- 
well : having all new in it ; as Scenes, Machines ; par- 
ticularly, one scene painted with myriads of Ariel 
Spirits ; and another flying away with a table, furnisht 
out with fruits, sweet-meats, and aU sorts of viands, 
just when Duke Trinculo and his companions were going 
to dinner ; all things perform'd in it so admirably well, 
that not any succeeding opera got more money." In 
1674, Henry Herringman, the same pubUsher who early 
in 1670 had issued the Davenant-Dryden version, 
printed the operatic alteration by Shadwell, again 
without any notice of authorship on the title-page, but 
with Dry den's signed preface, the prologue and epilogue 
of 1667, as they appear in the quarto of 1670. Into this 
trap all the editors of Dryden have faUen headlong. In 
every reprint of Dryden's theatre (including Scott) we' 
find the text of the 1674 quarto. Professor Saintsbury, 
indeed, noticed differences between the two quartos, 
1670 and 1674, but unfortunately he took quarto 1674 
to be merely a corrected copy of quarto 1670. The 
apogee of muddledom was reached by H. H. Furness in 
his untrustworthy edition of The Tempest, 1892 (Vario- 
rum Shakespeare) when, having most ignorantly girded 
at Dryden on every possible occasion he coolly reprints I 
as " Dryden's Version " Shadwell's Opera from the 
quarto of 1674, and ingenuously prefaces it with a few 
mutilated extracts from Pepys relating to the produc- 

* Downes says " In 1673," but his dating is wrong. For a 
complete and masterly account of the whole difficult question 
of The Tempest see W. J. Lawrence's authoritative Did Thomas 
Shadwell ivrite An Opera on " The Tempest," to which I am 
materially indebted. The Elizabethan Playhouse, First Series, 

P- IQ5- 

t Furness announces " I have cut out about twenty or thirty 

Introduction xliii 

tion of November 1667. Furness also supplies us with 
some notes upon the sea-terms in Act I, scene i. It 
may be remarked that his notes here are far more 
incoherent and uninteUigible than he supposes the 
nautical expressions to be. 

As Mr. W. J. Lawrence has well said : " Based on the 
Dryden-D'Avenant comedy of 1667, and comprising all 
its features, Shadwell's opera has several distinguishing 
characteristics." To discuss these in detail were super- 
fluous. " It will suffice to say that the main differentia- 
tion of the operatic version lies in the terminal Masque 
of 'Neptune and Amphitrite." In Act II, scene 4, of the 
Opera, quarto 1674, occurs a new song, " Arise ye 
subterranean winds " the music for which was published 
in 1680, in Part II of Pietro Reggio's Songs, under the 
title, " A Song in the Tempest. The Words by Mr. 

It is exceedingly curious that in the quarto of 1674, 
the book of ShadweU's Opera, Herringman should have 
printed Dryden's prologue and epilogue of 1667, more 
especially as there exist a " Prologue and Epilogue to 
the Tempest," which were undoubtedly written by 
Shadwell himself for his own production. As these are 
preserved in the Egerton MSS.* in the British Museum, 
they may, although they have been reprinted by Mr. 
W. J. Lawrence, fittingly be given here : 

" Prologue 
Wee, as the ffathers of the Stage have said. 
To treat you here a vast expense have made ; 
What they have gott from you in chests is laid, 
Or is for purchas'd Lands, or houses paid. 
You, in this house, all our estate may find, 
Wch for your pleasures wholly are design'd. 

* No. 2,623. 

xliv Shakespeare Adaptations 

'Twas foolish, for we might, we must confesse, 

Value ourselves much more, and you much lesse ; 

And like those reverend men, we might have spar'd 

And never for our Benefactors car'd ; 

Still made your Treatment, as they do more Coarse, 

As if you did, as fast as they, grow worse : 

But we young men, are apt to slight advice. 

One day we may decrepid grow and wise : 

Then, hoping not to time to get much more, 

We'U Save our money, and cry out wee'r poore. 

Wee're young, and look yet many yeares to live. 

And by your future Bounty hope to thrive ; 

Then let us laugh, for now no cost wee'l spare 

And never think we're poor, while we your favours share. 

Without the good old Playes we did advance. 

And all ye stages ornament enhance ; 

To splendid things they foUow in, but late : 

They ne're invent, but they can imitate : 

Had we not for yr. pleasure found new wayes 

You still had rusty arras had, and thred-bare playes ; 

Not scenes nor Woomen, had they had their will. 

But some some with grizzVd Beards had acted Woomen 


Some restive horses, spight of Switch and spurre, 
TiU others strain against 'em, will not stir. 
Envying our Splendid house, and prosp'rous playes. 
They scoff at us, and LibeU the high wayes. 
Tis fitt we, for our faults, rebukes shou'd meet. 
The Citty ought to mend those of ye street. 
With the best poets' heads our house we grac'd 
Wch we in honour to ye Poets plac'd.* 

* Cf. Tom D'Urfey's Collin's Walk Through London (1690), 
Canto IV, where the peripatetic, on visiting Dorset Gardens, 
"... saw each box with beauty crbwn'd 
And pictures deck the structure round. 

Introduction xlv 

Too much of the old witt they have, tis true : 
But they must look for little of ye new." 

" Epilogue 
When feeble Lovers' appetites decay 
They, to provoke, and keep themselves in play. 
Must, to their Cost, make ye young Damsells shine ; 
If Beauty can't provoke, they'l do't by being fine ; 
That pow'rfull charme, wch cannot be withstood. 
Put offe bad faces, and adornes ye good. 
Oft an embroider'd Damsel have we seen 
Ugly as Bawd, and finer than a Queen, 
Who by that splendor has victorious been. J 
She, whose weake Eyes had nere one Victory gott 
May conquer with a flaming petticoat ; 
Witt in a Mistress you have long enjoy' d. 
Her beauty's not impair'd but you are cloy'd ! 
And Since 'tis not Witt's fault that you decay. 
You, for yo^ want of appetite must pay. 
You to provoke yo^ Selves must keep her fine. 
And she must now at double charges shine.* 

Old Sinners thus 

When they feel Age and Impotence approach. 
Double the charge of furniture and Coach ; 

Ben, Shakespear, and the learned rout. 

With noses some and some without." 
" These portraits remained in situ until the demolition of the 
theatre in 1709" (W. J. Lawrence). 

Cf. also the smart reference to Dorset Gardens in Dryden's 
Epilogue Spoken at the opening of the New House (Theatre Royal, 
Drury Lane), 26 March 1674: 

" Though in their House the Poets Heads appear. 

We hope we may presume their Wits are here." 
* " Prices of admission were advanced during the run of new 
operas, owing to the expense of mounting. Duffett girds at the 
practice in the prologue to his Psyche Dehauch'd (1678) " (W. J. 

xlvi Shakespeare Adaptations 

When you of Witt and sence were weary growne, 
Romantick, riming, fustian Playes were showne, 
We then to flying Witches did advance,* 

* Compare the anonymous Epilogue to The Ordinary. " A 
Collection of Poems written upon several Occasions By several 
Persons." London, 1673 [8vo], p. 167. The hues are cited by 
Mr. G. Thom-Drury in Some Seventeenth Century Allusions to 
Shakespeare, p. 17 : 

" Now empty shows must want of sense supply. 
Angels shaU dance and Macbeth' s Witches fly." 
There had been a revival of the Davenant Macbeth at Dorset 
Gardens early in 1673. A special feature was made of machines 
for the witches, who mounted and flew through the air. In Notes 
and Observations on the Empress of Morocco, 4to, 1674, the work 
of Dryden, ShadweU, and Crowne, the following passage occurs : 
" What a. beastly pattern- of a King whom he intends vertuous, 
has he shown in his Muley Labas ? Yet he is the only person who 
is kept to his Character ; for he is a perpetual Fool, and I dare 
imdertake that if he were Play'd by Nokes, who Acted just such 
another Monarch in Mackbeth, it would give new life to the 
Play, and do it more good than all its Devils." Mr. Thom-Drury, 
who has drawn my attention to this remarkable passage, queries 
if this must not mean that Nokes had attempted to act Macbeth, 
and indeed the words admit of no other signification. One may 
compare Edmund Smith's Poem to the memory of Mr. John 
Phillips : 

" So, when Nurse Nokes to act young Ammon tries 
With shambling legs, long chin, and foolish eyes. 
With dangling hands he- strokes th' imperial robe. 
And with a cuckold's air commands the globe : 
The pomp and sound the whole buffoon display'd. 
And Ammon's son more mirth than Gomez made." 
From these lines it would seem that Nokes had (once at least) 
appeared as Alexander in The Rival Queens. He is called Nurse 
Nokes from his famous performance of Lavinia's Nurse in 
Otway's Caius Marius, produced at the Duke's House in 1679. 
Gomez, in Dryden's The Spanish Friar, produced at the Duke's 
House in the spring of 1681, had been created by Nokes. 

Introduction xlvii 

And for your pleasures traffic'd into ffrance.* 
From thence new acts to please you, we have sought] 
We have machines to some perfection brought, . I 
And above 30 Warbhng voyces gott.f | 

Many a God and Goddesse you will heare 
And we have Singing, Dancing, Devils here 
Such Devils, and such gods, are very Deare. 
We, in aU ornaments, are lavish growne 
And Hke Improvident DamseUs of ye Towne, 
For present bravery, aU your wealth lay downe, 
As if our keepers ever wou'd be kind, ] 

The Thought of future wants we never mind, \ 
No pittance is for your Old age design'd. J 
Alone we on yo^ Constancy depend. 
And hope yo'= Love to th' stage will never end. 
To please you, we no Art, or cost will spare 
To make yr. Mrs. look stiU young, still faire." 

" Shadwell's prologue," says Mr. Lawrence, " prac- 
tically dates itself. It is nothing more than a lumbering 

* Circa 1672-3 Betterton visited Paris by the special com- 
mand of the king, in order to observe how the English theatre 
could be improved in the matter of scenery and decorations. 

\ " Mostly the boys and men of the Chapel Royal," says Mr. 
W. J. Lawrence, who further supphes a most interesting extract 
from the Lord Chamberlain's Accotmts, 16 May 1674, whereby 
instructions were given that all the men and boys belonging to 
the Chapel Royal " that sing in ye Tempest at his Royall High- 
nesse Theatre, doe remaine in towne all the week." On Saturdays, 
however, they had to go to Windsor, since the king was in 
residence at "the Castle, for the Sunday services. They were 
allowed " to retume to London on Mundayes if there be occasion 
for them." 

I For the " dancing devils " see The Tempest (Shadwell's 
version, 4to, 1674), Act II, 3, and for " the gods," the terminal 
masque of Neptune and Amphitrite. 

xlviii Shakespeare Adaptations 

rejoinder to Dryden's prologue and epilogue for the 
opening of the new Theatre Royal on 26 March, 1674." 

The Davenant-Dryden version of The Tempest was 
produced on Thursday, 7 November 1667, at the Duke's 
Theatre. Pepys, who was present, found himself among 
" a great many great ones. The house mighty full ; the 
King and Court there : and the most innocent play that 
ever I saw ; and a curious piece of musique in an echo 
of half sentences, the echo repeating the former half, 
while the man goes on to the latter,; which is mighty 
pretty." * AH were " mightily pleased with the play." 
Pepys, who saw the comedy several times, on one 
occasion was admitted behind the scenes, and " had the 
pleasure to see the actors in their several dresses, 
especially the seamen, and monster, which were very 

No list of actors was printed with the piece, but we 
know that Henry Harris played Ferdinand; Edward 
Angel, " an incomparable Comedian," Stephano ;t Cave 
Underhill, Trincalo.J Moll Davis was also in the original 

* This is the song sung by Ferdinand, wherein Ariel echoes 
Go thy way, in Act III. It was set by Banister, who with Pelham 
Humphreys suppHed the music for the Davenant-Dryden 
comedy. For Shadwell's opera new instrumental music was 
written by Matthew Lock, and new vocal music by Pietro Reggio 
and J. Hart. The dances were composed by Draghi. In a private 
letter to myself, Mr. W. Barclay Squire writes: "Excepting 
Draghi 's dances I think we now have the whole of the music for 
Shadwell's version." In 1690 the Shadwell opera, with various 
_ additions, was whoUy re-set by Henry PurceU. 

f See An Elegy Upon . . . Mr. Edward Angell, reprinted in A 
Little Ark, pp. 38-9 : 

" Who shall play Stephano now ? your Tempest's gone 
To raise new Storms i' th' hearts of every one." 
X This and the Gravedigger in Hamlet were, perhaps, the two 
most famous roles of this excellent actor, who was nicknamed 
•" Prince Trincalo." 

Introduction xlix 

cast, her role perhaps being HippoHto, for the " right 
Heir of the Dukedom of Mantua " was assigned to a 
woman, and " httle Mis Davis " in breeches parts had 
already enraptured the town. After she had left the 
stage she was succeeded in The Tempest by Mrs. Gosnell, 
who, teste Pepys, but ill supphed her place. Betterton 
himself did not appear in The Tempest. The Davenant- 
Dryden version achieved a veritable triumph, and it 
was continually being acted to crowded houses, until, 
curiously enough, it seems to have been entirely absorbed 
in Shadwell's ornate Opera. 

Davenant's innovations kept the stage for well-nigh 
two centuries, and, however they may be criticized from 
one standpoint, this fact is proof indisputable of their 
theatrical effectiveness, which is in itself no mean quality. 
The Master of the Ship, Stephano, and his mates are 
intensely amusing, they have a racy humour and zest 
in no way derivative from Shakespeare ; whilst there is 
surely no one who cannot but be devoutly thankful to 
be spared that protracted and intensely dull scene 
between Alonso, Sebastian, Antonio, and the attendant 
lords which commences the second act of Shakespeare's 

In his preface to The Tempest, quarto 1670, Dryden 
exphcitly states that the character of Hippolito is 
entirely due to Davenant. Herman Grimm in his 
Funfzehn Essays (Berlin, 8vo, 1875), made a futile 
attempt to show that Hippolito is borrowed from 
Calderon's En esta vida todo es verdad, y todo mentira, 
whereupon Furness, who obviously has no acquaintance 
with the Spanish play in question, impertinently 
belabours Dryden with clumsy abuse. " It is hard to 
decide whether or not Dryden 's reputation be addition- 
ally damaged by the revelation lately made by an 
eminent German scholar, that the mutilations, or rather 
the additions, for which Dryden took to himself credit 


1 Shakespeare Adaptations 

as the author, are wholesale ' conveyances ' from a 
play of Calderon."* Even were these assumptions 
correct, such virulence in wantonly attacking so great a 
name as Dryden would be singularly indecorous and 
offensive. Wheij these grandiloquent assertions are 
wholly incorrect and demonstrably untrue, it is, per- 
haps, better to refrain from characterizing so inept a 
tirade in too particular a manner. 

Calderon's drama. En esta vida todo es verdad, y todo 
mentira, is a play of strange and beautiful fantasy 
detailing in exquisite poetry knightly adventure, which, 
however, to the unimaginative English taste must 
almost inevitably seem conceited and extravagant, if 
not altogether too whimsical and grotesquely bizarre. 
Nevertheless, the whole is informed and irradiated with 
such grace and lordliness of diction that not even the 
most regular critic could deny his applause. The drama 
cannot be earlier than 1637, and it is quoted in a 
romance printed in 1641, so we are able to date it within 
the space of a very few years. It was first published as 
a separate quarto. f The characters are as follows : 
Focas; Eraclio; Leonido; Astolfo; Ismenia; Lisipo; 
Federico, Principe; Cintia; Libia; Damas; Luquete, 
gracioso ; Sabafion, gracioso. The plot may be roughly 
outlined thus| : Astolfo, the ambassador of Mauricio, 

* H. H. Fumess, The Tempest (1892), Preface, pp. viii, ix 
{Variorum Shakespeare). Strunk, in his edition of All For Love 
(Belles-Lettres Series), relying upon the untnistworthy Fumess, 
repeats the error that Davenant derived from Calderon {Intro- 
duction, p. xxvii). 

■f I have used the edition of 1671, which is to be found in 
Vol. VII of a collection, 1637-82. 

\ I have very briefly indicated the complex intrigue of the 
Second and' Third Days, as only the First Day concerns the 
point in question. 

Introduction li 

Emperor of Constantinople, after a battle in which 
Mauricio was slain by Focas, fled to the caverns of 
Mount Etna carrying with him Eraclio, the infant son 
of the dead Emperor. Irifile, a maiden beloved by Focas 
and by him left pregnant on his departure for the war, 
tried to follow him. In the wild mountain passes she 
was delivered of a son, Leonido. The mother expired, 
but the babe being found by Astolfo is brought up with 
Eraclio far from the haunts of men. Many years after, 
the First Day (Jornada Prima) commences with the 
solemn triumph of Focas, who to the sound of many 
instruments is received in state by Cintia, Queen of 
Sicily. Presently Libia, daughter of the famous magician 
Lisippo, appears in great alarm. Among the lonely dells 
of Etna she has been frightened by the apparition of 
" a man like a beast." This proves to be Astolfo in 
search of Eraclio and Leonido. Contrary to his stern 
precepts they have left their caves to wander abroad. 
When the long processions and tuneful choirs have 
passed from the stage, three strange figures, tanned, 
clad in skins, uncouth and unkempt, make their entrance. 
The old man is severely blaming the youths for having 
disobeyed his injunctions, but they excuse themselves, 
saying that the music and voices irresistibly attracted 
them from their seclusion. Astolfo replies that in 
tracking them he has met a woman who will, he declares, 
ruin them all. Eracho and Leonido have never seen a 
woman and Astolfo warns them of impending disaster 
should they once set eyes upon a fair female form. 
Soon, however, Eraclio is left alone, and in a few 
moments Cintia appears. They gaze at each other in 
wonderment and perplexity. There is also an encounter 
between Libia and Leonido. Astolfo interrupts, but he 
is met and recognized by Focas, to whom the old man 
announces that one of the two savage lads is the 
Emperor Mauricio's son, but which he refuses to reveal. 

lii Shakespeare Adaptations 

Focas threatens Astolfo, and the two youths stoutly 
defend their foster-father against the royal guards. 
Much tumult and confusion ensues when suddenly the 
wizard Lisippo appears. By his incantations he raises 
a terrific storm and amid the crash of thunder and 
lightning's blaze the First Day closes. 

The Second Day is occupied with the myriad diffi- 
culties and entanglements which have arisen owing 
to the secret Astolfo jealously holds. 

In the Third Day Libia proclaims that Eraclio is 
Mauricio's son. This she has learned from her father, 
the mage. Leonido wishes to kill Focas sleeping, but he 
is prevented by Eraclio. Focas awakes and sees the two 
youths with naked swords, whereupon Leonido asserts 
he drew to defend the king against Eracho. This 
Eracho denies and during their contention news is 
brought that Federico, Prince of Calabria, has landed 
with a hostile force. A battle ensues between the 
invaders and the army of Focas, who is slain on the 
field by Eraclio, and the play ends with cries of " Viva 
Eraclio, Eraclio viva!"* 

Divested of aU colour, chivalry, poetry, and sentiment, 
this brief outline, baldly told, cannot but appear too 
fancifully intricate as well as jejune, yet it must needs 
suffice for our present purpose. It is enough, indeed, to 

* It should be noted that Pierre Comeille's tragedy, Heraclius, 
Empereur d'Orient, with " Heradius, Fils de I'Empereur Maurice, 
cru Martian Fils de Phocas, Amant d'Eudoxe " and " Martian, 
Fils de Phocas, cru Leonce Fils de Leontine, Amant de Pulcherie" 
is whoUy different to Calderon's drania. The critics, however, 
discussed which was the original, and this gave occasion to 
Voltaire's apt remark: " Le lecteur comparera le Theatre 
€spagnol avec le franfais, et il decouvrira au premier coup d'oeil 
quel est I'original. Si apres cela il reste des disputes ce ne sera 
pas contre les personnes eclairees." 

Introduction liii 

show that it can hardly be maintained that such an 
incident as the first meeting of Eracho and Cintia, 
easily to be paralleled in folk lore and romance, is 
necessarily, or even probably, the source whence 
Davenant had his hint of HippoHto and Dorinda. The 
scene opens thus : 

" Salen Cintia y Er actio. 
Er. Ni que se opondra a mis fuerzas ? 

Mas que miro! Cint. Mas que veo! 
Er. Que bello animal ! Cint. Que fiera 

tan espantosa ! Erac. Divino 

assombro ! 
Cint. Horribile presencia!" 

It is true that there are in Calderon half a dozen 
verses which bear some resemblance to as many lines in 
The Tempest ; or, The Enchanted Island, but given the 
situation, the coincidence in thought is almost inevit- 
able. If we are to f oUow Grimm, how vast and nebulous 
a field of speculation is opened!. One might trace 
Eraclio and Leonido back to the Charlemagne cycle and 
derive them from the story of Valentine and Orson, 
written during the reign of Charles VIII and first 
printed at Lyons, folio, 1495 ; and again a weighty 
discussion could be set on foot as to the relation of 
Calderon's play to Cymbeline, for Astolfo is surely very 
like Belarius — a rich-marrowed bone for the Shake- 
spearean commentators: To wander wider, is it not 
obvious that when the Catechism of the Book of Common 
Prayer instructs the catechumen "to do my duty in 
that state of life unto which it shall please God to call 
me," this is a mere translation of Seneca's " dat quidem 
operam, ut in hac statione qua positus est, honeste se 
et Industrie gerat " ? But as has been well said : "To 
set out to hunt dehberately for literary doubles is to 
reduce letters to the level of an acrostic." 

liv Shakespeare Adaptations 

There are many contemporary allusions which show 
that The Tempest ; or. The Enchanted, Island was most 
popular with Restoration audiences. Thus, in an anonym- 
ous poem. The Country Club, 4to, 1679, we have : 

" Such noise, such stink, such smoke there was, you'd 

The Tempest surely had been acted there. 
The cryes of star-board, Lar-board, cheerly boys. 
Is but as demy rattles to this noise." 

In 1 690- 1 there was a special revival for which Henry 
Purcell wrote the music. New and costly spectacular 
effects' were prepared, and for a long while the magnifi- 
cence and show were the talk of the whole town. In his 
capital comedy. The Marriage-Hater Match' d, produced 
at the Theatre Royal early in January 1691-2, D'Urfey 
has the following reference to this sumptuous produc- 

" Lord Brainless. A Player, ha ha ha, why now you 

Rave, Madam, Darewel, thou canst witness the 

contrary of that, thou toldst me her Breeding was such, 
that she had been familiar with Kings and Queens. 

" Darewell. Ay my Lord in the Play-house, I told ye 
she was a High Flyer too, that is, I have seen her upon 
a Machine in the Tempest. 

" Lord Brainless. In the Tempest, why then I suppose 
I may seek her fortune in the inchanted Island." 

A performance of The Tempest with " aU the original 
Flyings and Musick " is announced in the Daily C our ant, 
13 Februarv 1707-8. " Dorinda by Mrs. Cross with the 
Song of ' Dear pretty Youth.' " " Dear pretty Youth " 
was first published in Deliciae Musicae, Book III (1696, 
but issued late in 1695), as " A New Song in the Tempest 
Sung by Miss Cross to her Lover who is supposed Dead. 
Set by Mr. Henry Purcell." 

At Drury Lane, 4 June 1714, Prospero was played by 

Introduction Iv 

Powell; Caliban, Johnson; Trincalo, Bullock; Fer- 
dinand, Ryan; Hippolito, Mrs. Mountfort; Dorinda, 
Mrs. Santlow. 

On 2 January 1729, at the same theatre. Mills acted 
Prospero; Wilks, Ferdinand; Shepherd, Stephano; 
Harper, Mustacho; Joe Miller, Trincalo; "Jubilee" 
Norris, Ventoso ; Mrs. Gibber, Hippohto ; Mrs. Booth, 
Miranda ; Miss Robinson, Ariel, whilst a young nymph 
of seventeen, Kitty Raftor, who later became Kitty 
Clive, as Dorinda, charmed a crowded audience. 

On 31 January 1746, at Drury Lane, Garrick revived 
The Tempest as by Shakespeare. Luke Sparks was the 
Prospero ; MackHn, Stephano, and Kitty Clive, Ariel. On 
19 May following. The Tempest was repeated, probably 
for the benefit of Isaac Sparks, who appeared as Caliban, 
but the next season the Davenant-Dryden version with 
Shadwell's alterations again monopolized the stage. 

On 26 December of the following year. The Tempest, 
loosely billed as " Not acted 7 years," was produced 
with Berry as Prospero; Macklin, Trincalo; Isaac 
Sparks, Caliban; Taswell, a great farceur, Sycorax; 
Peg Woffington, Hippolito; Mrs. Mozeen, Miranda; 
Kitty Clive, Ariel; and Mrs. Green, Dorinda. The 
whole concluded with the elaborated Masque of Neptune, 
Amphitrite, the Sea-gods and Nereids. 

On II February 1756, at Drury Lane, Garrick put on 
what is, beyond all doubt, infinitely the worst alteration 
of The Tempest ever perpetrated. This was an operatic 
version, prepared by himself, into which have been 
intercalated no less than two and thirty songs and duets. 
Hippolito and Dorinda disappear, but much matter has 
been conveyed from Tyrannic Love, and we have such 
numbers as a trio for Trincalo, Stephano, and Ventoso. 
Beard sang Prospero, and Signora Curioni Miranda. 
Not impertinently did Theophilus Cibber in Two 
Dissertations on the Theatres write of " The Tempest 

Ivi Shakespeare Adaptations 

castrated into an opera.* Oh! What an agreeable 
Lullaby might it have prov'd to our Beaus and Belles 
to have heard CaUban, Sycorax, and one of the Devils 
trilling of trios." 

On 20 October 1757, Garrick revived Shakespeare's The^ 
Tempest. It was announced as " Not acted 14 years " 
and performed seventeen times that season. Mossop 
sustained Prospero; Miss Pritchard, Miranda; Berry, 
Caliban ; and Woodward is said to have been excellent 
as Stephano. This was, indeed, the role he chose for his 
last appearance, Drury Lane, 13 January 1777, when 
Dunstall was Caliban and Quick Trinculo. 

At Covent Garden, 27 December 1776, The Tempest 
is billed as " never acted there." 

It should be noticed that BeU's acting edition of 
Shakespeare " regulated from the prompt-books by 
permission of the managers " (1773-75) supplies an 
unadulterated, if greatly abridged, text of The Tempest, 
which, according to Boaden, was performed 28 April 

* Another but equally deplorable opera made out of The 
Tempest was produced at the Edinburgh Theatre in the same 
year, 1756. The songs only seem to have been preserved, and 
these are of the most pedestrian order. Milcha, who commences 
the performance with a doggerel Recitative, has nine songs, and 
Ariel only two. Curiously enough, Milcha was played by a man, 
Mr. Sadler. 

In 1780 was printed, 8vo, The Shipwreck, altered from 
Shakespeare and Dryden, with the original music by Smith, as 
performed at the Patagonian Theatre, Exeter-Change. This 
absurd production opens on " a heath," where assemble the 
witches borrowed from Macbeth. Demons are summoned to 
wreck the ship and destroy all on board. So contemptible a 
thing, however, is rmworthy of serious consideration. The 
Patagonian Theatre was situated in Exeter Change, Strand, on 
a portion of the site of Burleigh House, the town house of the 
great Lord Treasurer, which was afterwards known as Exeter 
House. The theatre ceased to exist as such after 1779-80. 

Introduction Ivif 

1785, " pure and unmixed " at Drury Lane. The 
masque, however, was omitted. Bensley, " the only 
Prospero," won great applause, and Miss Phillips as 
Miranda appeared exquisitely beautiful, whilst " Old 
Bannister's Caliban contrasted finely with the Ariel of 
Miss Field." Four years later, however (13 October 
1789), Kemble at Drury Lane had restored Hippolito 
and Dorinda. Mrs. Goodall played the young Duke of 
Mantua ; Miss Farren, Dorinda ; Mrs. Crouch, Miranda, 
and Miss Romantzini, Ariel. Strangely enough Kemble 
places the Shipwreck in Act II. He again altered The 
Tempest for Covent Garden, where his second version 
was produced 8 December 1806. 

On 31 October 1812, at Covent Garden, Young, who 
attempted Prospero, suffered terribly by comparison 
with Kemble. But Emery as Caliban, Mathews as 
Stephano, and Blanchard as Trincalo, proved very 
great. Mrs. Henry Johnston played Hippolito, and Miss 
Booth, Dorinda. As Ariel, Miss Bolton " united the 
elegance of a dancer with the just action and delivery 
of the more finished actress." 

Hippolito and Dorinda did not finally disappear from 
the theatre until 13 October 1838, upon which night was 
first seen at Covent Garden, Macready's sumptuous and 
exceedingly successful production of The Tempest " from 
the text of Shakespeare." Yet the whole dialogue of 
the first scene was suppressed, and the shipwreck 
represented as a panoramic spectacle. The critics were 
divided. John Bull pronounced that " poetry was 
drowned in the vulgar hurly-burly of an Easter piece," 
whUst Priscilla Horton as Ariel was merely " whisked 
about by wires and a cog-wheel like . . . the ladies in 
Peter Wilkins " ; but the Examiner on the other hand 
became lyric in its praises of the sprite who " floated 
in air across the stage, singing or mocking as she 
floated." It may be surmised that John Bull tells the 

Iviii Shakespeare Adaptations 

unvarnished truth, and that the mechanism was obvious 
and pantomimic enough. It is very significant that 
Hippohto and Dorinda so long maintained their position, 
and this fact argues that, upon the stage, at any rate, 
these two characters of Davenant's invention must be 
found interesting and dramatically effective. 

The immense success and continued attraction of 
Shadwell's opera, The Tempest ; or, the Inchanted Island, 
at the Duke's House inspired Thomas Duffett to 
burlesque Prospero, Dorinda, Stephano, Ferdinand, and 
the rest, in The Mock Tempest ; or. The Enchanted 
Castle,* which was produced at the Theatre Royal in 
the winter of 1674. t It was, Langbaine tells us, " writ 
on purpose to draw Company from the other Theatre, 
where was great resort about that time, to see that 
reviv'd Comedy call'd The Tempest, then much in vogue." 
Thomas Duffett was, we learn from the same authority, 
" before he became a Poet, a Milliner in the New 
Exchange." I He has left poems, two comedies, a 
masque, and three burlesques, the merit of which is 
vastly underrated. His first play. The Spanish Rogue, 
a rhyming comedy, was produced in the winter of 1673 
at the Theatre Royal. William Harris, Marmaduke 
Watson, Powell senior, Mrs. Boutell, Mrs. Susanna 
Uphill, II Mrs. Corey, and Mrs. Knepp, Pepys' fair 

* There is a variant of the title: " The New Tempest; or. 
The Enchanted Castle." 

•j- Term Catalogue, Hilary (15 February), 1675. 

J The New Exchange was a kind of bazaar on the south side 
of the Strand. It was an immensely popular resort, and there 
are innumerable references to its shops, its sempstresses and 
haberdashers. Scene I of the Second Act of Otway's The 
Atheist ; or, The Soldier's Fortune (Duke's House, 1683), is laid 
in the Exchange, and Mrs. Furnish, an Exchange- Woman, calls 
her " Very good Gloves or Ribbands, Choice of fine Essences." 

II Mistress to Sir Robert Howard, who afterwards married her. 

Introduction lix 

friend, were in the cast, the Prologue being spoken by 
Mrs. Boutell, and the Epilogue by Mrs. Knepp. It has 
some highly diverting scenes, and the intrigue through- 
out is well-sustained. When printed 4to, 1674, a 
dedication placed it " under the protection of the most 
perfect beauty and the greatest goodness in the world," 
" Madam Ellen Gwyn."* The device employed by 
Mingo in this play and his counterfeiting himself to be 
a eunuch may have been derived by Duffett from 
Terence's E%iymchus.\ 

About Easter 1674 was performed by the King's 
Company, The Amorous Old-Woman ; or, 'Tis Well if 
it Take, a comedy published in the same yearj as 
" Written by a Person of Honour," but which, on the 
authority of Langbaine, is universally ascribed to 
Duffett's pen. It has met with little favour from the 
critics, but it is a better play than they judge it to be. 
The scene lies at Pisa, and Strega " the old Rich de- 
formed Lady " was acted by Mrs. Corey. Mrs. Cox, 
Mrs. James, and Mrs. Boutell sustained the remaining 

* Only two other dedications to Nell Gwyn are known, Mrs. 
Behn's comedy. The Feign' d Courtezans, and Robert Whitcombe's 
excessively rare mythological dictionary, Janua Divorum, 8vo, 
1678. This latter dedication was pointed out to Gordon Goodwin, 
the editor of Peter Cunningham's The Story of Nell Gwyn (1908), 
by Mr. G. Thom-Drury. 

t The Eunuchns was largely utilized by Sir Charles Sedley in 
his best comedy, Bellamira ; 'or. The Mistress, produced at the 
Theatre Royal" in 1687. This excellent play is a very frank 
satire upon Lady Castlemaine. A more direct adaptation from 
Terence by L'Estrange and Echard was performed at Drury 
Lane in July 1717, and at the same house twenty years later was 
produced the Eunuch : or, The Derby Captain, a farce from 
Terence by Thomas Cooke, with Leigh in the title-role and 
Macklin as Captain Brag {Thraso). 

X The Term Catalogue, Easter (26 May), 1674. 

Ix Shakespeare Adaptations 

female characters, whilst the Prologue was spoken by 
Mohun. In 1684 The Amorous Old-Woman was re-issued 
with a new title-page as The Fond Lady. 

Beauties Triumph (4to, 1676), is a masque upon the 
subject of Paris and the Golden Apple. It was " Pre- 
sented by the Scholars of Mr. Jeffery Banister and Mr. 
James Hart At their New Boarding-School for Young 
Ladies and Gentlewomen, kept in that House which 
was formerly Sir Arthur Gorges at CHELSEY." This 
occasional piece has fancy but not distinction. 

Originally written for presentation at Court before 
the King, and graced with a prologue by the Earl of 
Mulgrave, which was spoken by Lady Elizabeth Howard, 
Elkanah Settle's robustious tragedy, The Empress of 
Morocco, had been produced at the Duke's Theatre, 
Dorset Gardens, in the autumn of 1673. Settle's heroics 
" rhyme and rattle " apace and are fluent with " a 
blund'ring kind of Melody." He has, moreover, con- 
siderable skill in managing stage effect and in arranging 
the conduct of highly spiced melodrama of a trans- 
pontine order. Owing to the spectacular magnificence of 
the scenery, the fine acting of Betterton, Mrs. Betterton, 
Mrs. Mary Lee, Henry Harris, and William Smith, and 
even more particularly because of the influence of 
Rochester, whose whim it was just then to patronize 
Settle and exalt him as a rival to Dry den. The Empress 
of Morocco had an enormous success with the public. 
It was published 1673, " With Sculptures. The like 
never done before. ... In Quarto. Price, stitcht, is," 
an edition much sought after by collectors on account 
of the fine old copper-plates. As might have been 
expected, and as was indeed Rochester's design. Settle's 
arrogance and inflated coxcombry excessively annoyed 
the better dramatists, and Dryden in particular was so 
justly irate that he joined with Shadwell and Crowne 
in a caustic attack. Notes and Observations on the Empress 

Introduction Ixi 

of Morocco or some few Erratas to be printed instead of 
the Sculptures with the second edition of that Play, 4to, 
1674. In the spring of 1674 also was produced at the 
new Theatre Royal (the second Drury Lane) Duffett's 
skit, The Empress of Morocco. Epistemon told Panta- 
gruel that in Hades he saw Cleopatra hawking onions, 
whilst Helen was a sluttish chambermaid, and Dido 
sold mushrooms. Duffett with some humour meta- 
morphoses Settle's heroines and grandees in similar 
fashion. Laula, the Queen Mother (Mrs. Betterton), 
becomes "an Hostess" acted by Griffin; Mariamne 
(Mrs. Mary Lee) " a Scinder Wench," acted by Cardell 
Goodman ; Morena (Mrs. Johnson) " an Apple- woman," 
acted by Will Harris. The farce commences thus: 
" SCENE OPENS and discovers the Court at HOT- 
COCKLES.* Muly-Labasj [Coysh] the Corn-cutter being 
taken and aboiit to lay down his Head in Morena the 
Apple-woman's Lap." Instead of Settle's " Villains, 
Lord, Priests, Masquers, and Attendants " we find 
ourselves in the company of Chimney-sweeps, Strong- 
water-men, Draymen, Porters, Tinkers, Gipsies, and 
Tapsters. The farce was at the time no doubt sufficiently 
effective, although now it is perhaps chiefly interesting 
on account of the elaborate epilogue which burlesques 
Macbeth. Here we are at once pell-mell amongst the 
most fantastic puppetries : " EPILOGUE Being a new 
Fancy, after the old and most surprising way of 

* " A nistic game in which one player lay face downwards, or 
knelt down with his eyes covered, and being struck on the back 
by the others in turn, guessed who struck him " (N.E.D.). It will 
be remembered that one Michaehnas Eve at neighbour Flam- 
borough's, Lady Blarney and Miss Carolina Wilhelmina Amelia 
Skeggs discovered the Vicar's daughters engaged in " this 
primaeval pastime." 

t Muley Labas in the tragedy was played by Pepys' friend, 
Henry Harris of the Duke's house. 

Ixii Shakespeare Adaptations 

MACBETH Perform'd with new, and costly 
MACHINES, Which were invented and managed by 
the most ingenious Operator Mr. Henry Wright, 
P.G.Q."* Hecate and Three Witches, " According to 
the Famous Mode of Macbeth," commence " The most 
renowned and melodious Song of John Dory^ being 
heard as it were in the Air, sung in parts by Spirits, to 
raise the expectation, and charm the audience with 
thoughts sublime and worthy of that Heroick Scene 
which follows. The scene opens : Thunder and lightning 
is discover'd, not behind Painted Tiffany to blind and 
amuse the Senses, but openly, by the most excellent 
way of Mustard-bowl and Salt-Peter." Then " Three 
Witches iiy over the Pit Riding upon Beesomes " and 
" Heccate descends over the Stage in a Glorious Charriott 
adorn'd with Pictures of Hell and Devils, and made of 
a large Wicker Basket." After some discourse in gross 
parody of Macbeth I, 3, " Enter two Spirits with Brandy 
burning, which they drink whilst it flames. Heccate and 
the three Witches sing 

To the Tune of, A Boat, a Boat,X &c. 

A health, a health to Mother C 

From Moor-fields fled to Mill-bank Castle 
She puts off rotten new-rig' d Vessel." 

* " The whole of this imprint, down to the mystic initials, 
sounds hke a jeer at some grandiloquent announcement made 
by the rival theatre " (W. J. Lawrence, The Elizabethan Play- 
house, First Series, p. 219). 

t Weber, who in his edition of Beaumont and Fletcher printed 
this popular song from Thomas Ravenscroft's Deuteromelia 
(1609), states that it is referred to as " an old three-man's song," 
by R. Carew, The Survey of Cornwall (1602). 

J This is the same tune as the very popular loyal old song, 
Here's a Health unto his Majesty, With a fal la la la la I Cf . 
Shadwell's The Miser (Theatre Royal, January 1672), Act III, 

Introduction Ixiii 

Mother C is, of course, the infamous Mrs. Cresswell, 

and in this strange song other notorious maquerelles of 
the day are celebrated. Of Mother Gifford* we are told : 

" She needs must be in spight of fate Rich 
Who sells tough Hen for Quail and Partridg :" 

Mother Temple, and Betty Buly " who began the Trade 
but newly " receive ample mention, but Moseleyf is 
acclaimed as the doyenne of these harridans. Hecate 
then " speaks to the Audience " : 

" Hail! hail! hail! you less than wits and greater; 
Hail Fop in Corner, and the rest now met here. 
Though you'l ne're be wits, from your loins shall spread 
Diseases that shall reign when you are dead. 

Deed is done I 

War's begun! 
Great Morocco's lost and won. 
Bank-side Maulkin thrice has mew'd! no matter: 
If puss of t'other house will scratch^have at her! 

where Timothy Squeeze says : " We can i'faith, and sing, a Boat, 
a Boat, or here's a health to his Majesty, with a fa la la la lero." 

* There are many allnsions to all these ruffiane, but the- 
following reference in Dryden's Sir Martin Mar-All, IV, i 
(produced at the Duke's House, Thursday, 15 August 1667), is 
peculiarly apposite : " Every Night I fin'd out for a new Maiden- 
Head, and she has sold it me as often as ever Mother Temple, 
Bennet, or Gifford, have put off boil'd Capons for Quails and 

t Mother Moseley was extensively patronized by Shaftesbury. 
In Henry Neville Payne's The Siege of Constantinople, produced 
at the Duke's Theatre in the winter of 1674 (4to, 1675) a 
tragedy which very sharply lashes that crooked politician as the 
Chancellor, Lorenzo upon his patron designing a frolic, says : 
" My Lord, you know your old house. Mother Somelie's, 
You know she always fits you with fresh girls." 

Ixiv Shakespeare Adaptations 

T'appease your spirits, and keep our Farce from harm. 
Of strong Ingredients we have powerful charm." 

The spells are enumerated; Hecate and all the 
Witches cry, "Huff: no more!" Thereupon " a Hellish 
noise is heard within," and Hecate assures the pit : 

" He that wou'd damn this Farce does strive in vain 
This charm can never be o'recome by man 
Till Whetstones Park remove to Distaff Lane."* 

Hecate is called away, and she sings : 

" The Goose and the Gander went over the Green, 
They flew in the Corn that they could not be seen. 
Chorus — They flew," &c. 

A trio by the Three Witches concludes this extrava- 
ganza : 

" Rose-mary's green, Rose-mary's green ! 
derry, derry, down. 
When I am King, thou shalt be Queen. 

derry, derry, down. 

* Whetstone Park is a narrow roadway, of which the name 
still remains, between the north side of Lincoln's Inn Fields and 
the South Side of Holbom. In the reign of Charles II this 
district was infamous. There are innumerable references, as 
Dryden, prologue to The Wild Gallant when revived; Mr. 
Limberham, Act V (Duke's Theatre, 1679) ; Shadwell, The Miser 
(Theatre Royal, January 1672) ; Wycherley, Love in a Wood, 
I, 2 (4to, 1672) ; Crowne, The Country Wit, Act III (Duke's 
Theatre, 1675), et saepissime. Lee, in the Dedication to The 
Princess of Cleve (4to, 1689), speaks of " a Ruffian reeking from 
Whetstone's Park." 

Distaff Lane, Cannon Street, is now absorbed in that thorough- 
fare. The name is preserved in an alley known as Little Distaff 
Lane. Distaff Lane is mentioned by Stow and in Jonson's 
Masque of Christmas. 

Introduction Ixv 


// / have Gold thou shalt have part. 

derry, derry, down. 
// / have none thou hast my heart. 

derry, derry, down." 

A somewhat shambling epilogue in more ordinary 
fashion, with the appeal "To get good Plays be kind to 
bad Travesty," concludes the whole entertainment. In 
this medley Powell acted Hecate; WiUiam Harris, 
Adams, and Lyddal the Three Witches ; Cardell Good- 
man, Thunder, and Nathaniel Kew, Lightning. They 
were attended by " Spirits, Cats, Musicians." 

Somewhere about October 1673, there was produced 
at the Duke's House the " long expected " opera of 
Psyche.* Downesf writes that " Psyche came forth in all 
her ornaments ; new scenes, new machines, new cloaths, 
new French dances: this Opera was splendidly set 
out, especially in scenes ; the charge of which amounted 
to above 8oo£. It had a continuance of performance 
about 8 days together ; it prov'd very beneficial to the 
Company: yet The Tempest got them more money." 

* There is mxcertainty about the exact month. For a full 
discussion see W. J. Lawrence, The Elizabethan Playhouse, 
First Series, pp. 143-4. Psyche was pubhshed 4to, 1675, and is 
announced in The Term Catalogue, Hilary, 15 February 1674-5. 
Shadwell in his preface speaks of the book as having been 
written sixteen months before. On 22 August 1673, James Vernon, 
writing a letter from Court to Sir Joseph WUliamson at Cologne, 
incidentally mentions " that the Duke's house are preparing an 
Opera and great machines. They wiU have dansers out of 
France, and St. Andre comes over with them " — Letters to Sir 
Joseph Williamson at Cologne (Camden Society), i, 179. This 
reference is undoubtedly to Psyche. The passage is cited by Mr, 

■f Downes' dating, " February 1673," is certainly wrong. 


Ixvi Shakespeare Adaptations 

Shadwell's libretto* was set to music by Lock and 
Draghi; St. Andre arranged the ballet; Stephenson 
painted the scenery ; and Betterton superintended the 
whole production. After its original run Psyche was, 
of course, given intermittently for some time and proved 
a huge attraction. But whilst it was in its first flush of 
success, Duffett hastened to travesty it with a " Mock 
Opera," and early in 1674 Psyche Debauch' d^ was 
produced by the rival company. It is a clever and 
amusing skit, at times astonishingly akin to more 
modern pantomime. Several male roles were, it may be 
noted, acted by women and vice versa. Thus Mrs. 
Corbett appeared as King Andrew; Nicholas and the 
rustic Philip, Princes in love with None-so-fair, were 
acted by Mrs. Knepp and Mr. Charleton; Bruin, the 
White Bear of Norwich, by William Harris, who seems 
to have had a most apt talent for farce and extrava- 
ganza; Apollo, A Wishing-Chair, by Lydall; Jeffrey, 
Bruin's man, by Coysh ; Costard, a Country-man, and 
Gammer Redstreak his wife, by Powell and the inimit- 
able Mrs. Corey; Justice Crabb by John Wiltshire 
whilst of King Andrew's three daughters, Wou'dha- 
more. Sweet-lips, and None-so-fair, Mrs. Rutter played 
the eldest, and Joe Haines, the youngest. None-so-fair 
(Psyche), in which part, from the very first line, when 
the princess addresses her attendant: 

" O, Glozy, What a crumptious place is here!" 

* It is hardly necessary to say that the book of the opera is 
merely a version of the tragMie-ballet, Psych/, by ComeiUe, 
Moliere, and Quinault, which was produced at the theatre of the 
Tuileries in January 1671, and at the Palais-Royal on the 
following 24 July. There were thirty-eight consecutive per- 

t Publication was not immediate. Psyche Debauch'd was 
printed quarto, 1678. 

Introduction Ixvii 

he fooled and zanied to his heart's content. The scenes 
where None-so-fair is carried off by the magic Wishing- 
Chair (in parody of Psyche and the two Zephyri) to 
" an Arbour dress'd up with gaudy Play-games for 
Children," the realms of Bruin, who burlesques Cupid, 
are exceedingly happy, and at the moment when their 
sting and savour were poignant and new they must 
have proved irresistible. In the course of the piece a 
curious litany is chanted, and amongst other worthies 
they invoke Pope Joan, Friar Bungay, Wat Tyler, 
Massaniello, Don Quixote, Moll Cutpurse, Mother 
Moseley, James Nayler the fanatic, and the astro- 
loger, Lilly. The Inferno of the original opera appro- 
priately enough appears as a common Prison where 
loud demands of " Garnish, garnish, garnish," are 

The Mock-Tempest ; or, The Enchanted Castle, pro- 
duced at the Theatre Royal in the winter of 1674, met 
with great success, and — to quote Mr. W. J. Lawrence — 
" checked the taste for floridly mounted operas and 
spectacular extravagances hke The Empress of Morocco." 
It is, indeed, a burlesque full of broad fun, cleverly 
taking off many a salient point, both of situation and 
dialogue, in the ShadweU opera. That it did not remain 
a stock entertainment is, of course, a fate inevitable to 
parody, especially dramatic parody, which, however 
smart, is of its nature necessarily and essentially 
ephemeral and topical. As was to be expected, the more 
serious dramatists, not knowing whose turn might fall 
next, looked askance at Duffett's wit, and some ten years 
later Dryden in his revision of Sir William Soame's 

* The Biographia Dramatica sententiously says that Psyche 
Dehauch'd " met with the contempt it merited." This loose and 
unsupported statement is entirely negligible. Psyche Debauch' d 
seems to have been at the hour very popular. 

Ixviii Shakespeare Adaptations 

Art of Poetry * (1683), ingeniously, but with unfair 
inference, wrote : 

" The dullest scribblers some admirers found 
And the Mock Tempest was a whUe renown'd : 
But this low stuff the town at last despis'd. 
And scorned the folly that they once had priz'd/'f 

In 1676J was published, " Poems, Songs, Prologues 
and Epilogues ; never before printed. Written by Tho. 
Duffett ; and set by the most eminent Musicians about 
the Town. In Octavo. Price bound, is. Printed for 
Nicholas Woolfe near Bread Street in Cheapside." This 
little book of 120 pages contains much graceful verse. 
The poems to FranceUa are especially charming, in 
particular, " In cruelty you greater are " ; " O wretched 
state of helpless man " ; " Alas how short, how false 
and vain, Are the uncertain joys of man " ; and 
" Francelia's heart is still the same " ; which last was 
set by Nicholas Staggins. Duffett had a true lyric gift 
of song, nor are his prologues and epilogues without 
quality. In 1677, the Dedication to Celia being omitted, 
the book was re-issued with a fresh title-page : " New 
Songs and POEMS, A-la-mode both at COVRT and 
THEATERS, Now Extant. Never before Printed, by 
P. W. Gent." 

* "The I Art I Of I Poetry, | Written in French by | The 
SiEUR de Boileau, \ Made English. | London, | Printed for R. 
Bentley, and S. Magnes, in | Russel-Street in Covent Garden, 
1683." 8vo. 

f Langbaine writes : "I have heard that when one of his 
Plays, viz., The Mock Tempest was acted in Dublin, several 
Ladies and Persons of the best QuaHty left the House: such 
Ribaldry pleasing none but the Rabble." It is quite easy to 
understand that a burlesque which had achieved an enormous 
success in London, in Dublin would fall flat. 

J Term Catalogue, Easter (5 May) 1676. The book was 
licensed by L'Estrange, 30 September 1675. 

Introduction Ixix 

The first poem in this collection, entitled Song to the 
Irish Tune, which is forty hnes in length, may be found 
(amplified to one hundred and thirty hnes) in a broad- 
side "Printed for P. Brooksley near the Hospital-gate 
in West-smithfield." It is here termed " Amintor's 
Lamentation for Celia's Unkindness. Setting forth the 
passion of a Young man, who, falling in love with a coy 
Lady that had no kindness for him pursued his inclina- 
tions so far that she was forced to fly beyond Sea to 
avoid the importunities of his Address whereupon he 
thus complains : 

Both Sexes from this Song may learn, I How in extreams they may discern, 
Of what they should beware : | Unkindness and dispair. 

To a delicate New Tune ; Or. Since Celias my foe." 

It is difficult to form a just estimate of Duffett. He 
has till now been generally neglected and ignored, and 
no detailed study of his work is to be found. It was 
recently said, and may with advantage again be em- 
phasized, that there is no more ephemeral form of drama 
than theatrical burlesque. The current jokes, the up-to- 
date slang, the local and topical allusions, the humour 
of the stage situations, all depend in the first place upon 
an intimate knowledge of the play that is being traves- 
tied, and the broader the parody the sooner must it 
lose its essential point. Only exceptional efforts of great 
genius such as the theatre of Aristophanes or Bucking- 
ham's The Rehearsal will survive. Again, when we read 
the printed page of Duffett 's quartos we perforce miss 
half the spirit of his farces, to recapture which in its 
entirety we must needs have seen Settle's The Empress 
of Morocco, Shadwell's The Tempest and Psyche, have 
heard them discussed and criticized in every coffee-house 
of Covent-Garden and Russell Street, at the Rose 
Tavern and Wills. Imagination must paint as vividly 
as may be the candle-lit stage ; we must people it with 

Ixx Shakespeare Adaptations 

the actors and actresses of old Rowley's prime, with 
Will Harris, Goodman, Griffin, Mrs. Corey, pretty Mrs. 
Knepp, and that irresponsible scaramouch Joe Haines. 
But in spite of all, the music and hit of their voices; 
gesture, gag, and grimace, that winged Duffett's lines 
and woke many a merry laugh, are gone beyond recall. 
In some sense we may say that only the dry bones of 
his travesties remain. And yet, even for those who have 
no very speciaUzed acquaintance with Settle's tragedy 
and Shadwell's opera, enough is left to vindicate for 
these burlesques more serious consideration and more 
particular mention than they have hitherto received. 
The scenes possess humour, coarse though at times it may 
be ; they have a rollicking vitality ; they parody without 
impertinence, and afford an intimate and undress 
glimpse of those gaUant and picturesque days. It is not 
asserted that Thomas Duffett is a figure of outstanding 
importance, but it is maintained that he is a writer 
of extraordinarv interest, accidental though this may 

The Tempest has been once again travestied, but not 
until more than one hundred and seventy years after 
Duffett's day. In July 1847 ^"^ elaborate revival of 
Shakespeare's play was put on at the Theatre Royal, 
Liverpool, with James F. Cathcart as Prospero and Miss 
C. Bell, Ariel.* This inspired Robert Brough, at that 
time a useful member of the Liverpool stock company, 
to write a burlesque, which, however, was not performed 
at the Theatre Royal untU about a year later, circa 
August 1848, when Charles Rice was the Caliban. 
Brough's farce reached London in the winter, and was 
produced at the Adelphi on Monday, 20 November, 

* Curiously enough, there are no details whatsoever of this 
revival in R. J. Broadbent's Annals of the Liverpool Stage 

Introduction Ixx 

sharing the bill with St. Mary's Eve* Slasher and 
Crasher, and The Dance of the Shirt or, The Sempstress' 
Ball. According to the fashion of the day it had been 
furnished with a long and extravagant title: The 
Enchanted Isle ; or " Raising the Wind " on the Most 
Approved Principles : A Drama Without the Smallest 
Claim to Legitimacy, Consistency, Probability, or Any- 
thing Else but Absurdity ; in which will be found Much 
that is Unaccountably Coincident with Shakespeare's 
" Tempest." This farce was printed as " by the Brothers 
Brough."t It proves, as might be expected, sufficiently 
topical with parodies of " I dreamed that I dwelt in 
marble halls," Arline's song in The Bohemian'\Girl, 
Henry Russell's The Maniac, and other fashionable 
music of the time : it is, moreover, stuffed full of " bare 
clinches, carwichets, quarter-quibbles and puns " some 
of which are introduced with great ingenuity and skill, 
and even though eighty years have flown, it is not 
unamusing withal. In its day it was immensely popular. 
The Times, 21 November 1848, announced " We may 
augur a long existence for The Enchanted Isle," whilst the 
critic of the Illustrated London News even more enthusi- 
astically declared that " it achieved a triumph. ... At 
the fall of the curtain the applause was uproarious." 
There was indeed a powerful cast. Paul Bedford acted 
Alonzo ; Miss Woolger, Ferdinand, " his son, a fast 
man, thrown loose upon the waves " ; Waye, Gonzalo ; 

* St. Mary's Eve ; A Solway Story : "An Original Domestic 
Drama," by William Bayle Bernard, was originally produced at 
the Adelphi, 10 January 1838. It is a Jacobite story, and the 
period of the play is 1747. O. Smith acted Barty Sharp, a 
smuggler, and Madame Celeste, Madeline. 

Slasher and Crasher is a farce by James Maddison Morton 
It was first performed at the Adelphi, 16 November 1848. It 
acts one hour. The Dance of the Shirt was an occasional piece. 

t Webster's Acting National Drama, vol. 14. 

Ixxii Shakespeare Adaptations 

O. Smith, great in melodrama, Prospero; Madame 
Celeste, Ariel, "a Magic Page from Shakespeare's Magic 
Volume"; Munyard, Caliban; Miss M. Taylor, Mir- 
anda; C. J. Smith, Easa di Baccastoppa; Sanders, 
Smuttifacio. On 28 July i860 The Enchanted Isle was 
included in the programme at Drury Lane, when five 
companies united for the benefit of the widow and 
orphans of Robert Brough, who died at Manchester on 
26 June of that year. Fanny Stirling was the Miranda, 
and she also spoke as prologue an address specially 
written by Shirley Brooks for the occasion. The En- 
chanted Isle was given by a company of artistic and 
literary amateurs. 

By virtue of that curious arrangement, dated 12 
December 1660, which gave Davenant a special mono- 
poly of certain plays such as Denham's The Sophy, 
Massinger's The Bondman, The Changeling, Suckling's 
Aglaura, The Tamer Tamed, The Maid in the Mill, 
The Spanish Curate, The Duchess of Malfi, no less than 
ten of Shakespeare's works were wholly assigned to the 
Duke's house: The Tempest, Pericles, Measure for 
Measure, Much Ado about Nothing, Romeo and Juliet, 
Twelfth Night, Henry VIII, King Lear, Macbeth, and 
Hamlet. All of these, whether in their original form 
{Twelfth Night, Henry VIII, Pericles, Hamlet), or 
altered by Davenant himself {The Tempest, Macbeth, 
Measure for Measure, Much Ado about Nothing*) or by 
other busy adapters such as James Howard {Romeo and 
Juliet), had a great and remarkable success in the 
theatre. Strangely enough the only exception seems to 
have been King Lear, concerning which theatrical 
tradition is entirely and singularly silent, although the 
Roscius Anglicanus records that between 1662 and 1665 

* Measure for Measure and Much Ado about Nothing were 
amalgamated by Davenant into The Law Against Lovers. 

Introduction Ixxiii 

was produced " The Tragedy of King Lear as Mr. 
Shakespear wrote it ; before it was altered by Mr. Tate." 
King Lear was not seen by that indefatigable playgoer 
Pepys, and Downes merely chronicles it with Middleton's 
A Trick to catch the Old One* Brome's The Sparagus 
Garden,] Glapthorne's Wit in a Constable,l John Cooke's 
Green's Tu Quoque; or, The City Gallant, \\ as old plays 
which were revived at that time. Of these, Pepys, on 
Friday, 23 May 1662, saw at " the Opera " Wit in a 
Constable, " the first time that it is acted; but so silly 
a play I never saw I think in my life." On Thursday, 12 
September 1667, he writes : "by that time it was time 
to go to a play, which I did at the Duke's house, where 
' Tu Quoque ' was the first time acted, with some 

* Licensed for printing 7 October 1607, and published, 
quarto, 1608. There was a second edition in 1616. 

t Printed quarto, 1640, as " Acted in the yeare 1635, by the 
then Company of Revels, at Salisbury Court." 

I Quarto, 1640. Acted at the Cockpit in Drury Lane. 

II " Greene's Tu Quoque, or The Cittie Gallant. As it hath heene 
diuers times acted by the Queenes Maiesties Seruants. Written by 
lo. Cooke Gent. Printed at London for lohn Trundle, 1614." 
This excellent comedy, which Hazlitt considers " very lively and 
elegant," the work of John Cooke, was dubbed and is universally 
known as Greene's Tu Quoque on account of the inimitable acting 
of a celebrated comedian, Thomas Greene, who at the Red Bull 
created Bubble, a silly coxcomb with the tag tu quoque always 
in his mouth. Thomas Heywood, the dramatist, supplied an 
Address " To the Reader." Other editions were published in 
1622 and 1640 (?), and the comedy duly appears in all the issues 
of Dodsley's Old Plays. A text may also be found in the Tudor 
Facsimile Texts. Chetwood speaks of a quarto, 1599, which is 
probably mythical. Upon the title of the 1614 quarto is a wood- 
cut of Greene in character. See also the frontispiece to The Wits, 
or Sport upon Sport (1663), an illustration which has been 
frequently reproduced and is usually misdescribed as the Red 
BuU Theatre. 

Ixxiv Shakespeare Adaptations 

alterations of Sir W. Davenant's; but the play is a 
very silly play me thinks ; for I, and others that sat by 
me, Mr. Povy and Mr. Progers, were weary of it ; but 
it will please the citizens." The following Tuesday also, 
the diarist, his wife, and Mercer going to the Theatre 
Royal to see The Scornful Lady, found the pit empty, 
" whereupon, for shame, we would not go in, but, 
against our wills, went all to see ' Tu Quoque ' again, 
where there is pretty store of company, and going with 
a prejudice the play appeared better to us. . . . But one 
of the best parts of our sport was a mighty pretty lady 
that sat behind us, that did laugh so heartily and 
constantly, that it did me good to hear her." In 1662 
Edward Browne, the son of Sir Thomas, saw Tu Quoque 
acted at the King's Arms, Norwich, and in his manu- 
script account book he has noted that he paid eighteen 
pence for admission. 

Inasmuch as the old prompter has no word of com- 
mendation for King Lear, whilst he waxes eloquent over 
Hamlet, Pericles, The Tempest, Twelfth Night, Henry 
VIII, and Romeo and Juliet, we may not unfairly infer 
that Shakespeare's great tragedy, for whatsoever reason 
it might be, failed either to please the critics or to 
attract the town. The cast, unfortunately, has not been 
preserved, but Betterton no doubt sustained the title- 

In the early spring of 168 1 there was produced at the 
Duke's Theatre, Dorset Gardens, an alteration of King 
Lear by Nahum Tate, already known to the literary 
world as the author of a small volume of Poems (8vo, 
1677),* and a couple of fairly fortunate dramas, Brutus 

* Licensed by L'Estrange, 27 November 1676. The book is 
dedicated to Dr. Walter Needham (1631 P-iGgi), a famous (if 
imfortvmate) physician and anatomist, who, in succession to Dr. 
Castle, had been appointed physician to Charterhouse, 7 Novem- 
ber 1672. 

Introduction Ixxv 

of Alba : or, The Enchanted Lovers and The Loyal 
General. Brutus of Alba was produced at Dorset Gardens 
in the summer of 1678, and published, quarto, that year 
with a Dedication to the Earl of Dorset. The story is 
largely based on the Fourth Book of the Mneid, and 
Tate had, indeed, " begun and finisht it under the names 
of Dido and ^Eneas ; but was wrought by advice of some 
Friends, to Transform it to the Dress it now wears." 
iEneas accordingly has become " Brutus, Prince of the 
Dardan Forces " ; Ascanius, " Locrinus, His Son, A 
Youth " ; Dido, the " Queen of Syracuse " ; Anna, 
" Amarante, Her Confident " ; whilst Creusa is spoken of 
as Eudemia, and Sychaeus is now Argaces. Soziman, a 
" Designing Lord," a pointed satire on the treacherous 
Shaftesbury, is assisted in his villainies by the sorceress 
Ragusa. The scenes in which this " sullen Dame " and 
her four attendant witches take part are by no means 
destitute of fantasy and power, and considerable 
extracts from these passages were included by Charles 
Lamb in his Specimens of English Dramatic Poets (The 
Garrick Plays). 

The fourth Mneid had a particular attraction for 
Tate, and it was he who furnished the book of Purcell's 
famous opera Dido and Mneas,* performed by the pupils 

* This opera was revived, 20 November 1895, at the Lyceum 
Theatre, London, by students of the Royal College of Music, on 
the occasion of the Purcell Bicentenary. It attracted much 
attention, and has since that time been several times performed. 

In May 1792 there was given at the Haymarket a translation 
(with music by Stephen Storace) of Metastasio's Didone Abban- 
donata. Madame Mara sang Dido. Didone Abbandonata had 
originally been produced at Naples during the Carnival of 1724. 
Sarro composed the music. The Romanina (Marianna Bulgar- 
eUi) sang Dido, and Niccohni, whose voice was a low contralto, 
^neas. This briUiant opera created a furore. 

In England there have been some eight or nine dramatic 

Ixxvi Shakespeare Adaptations 

at Josiah Priest's Chelsea " Boarding-school for Young 
Gentlewomen." Priest removed from Leicester Fields 
to Chelsea in 1680, so the opera cannot be earlier than 
that year, and Mr. W. Barclay Squire, who has examined 
the question in ample detail, assigns 1688-1690 as the 
date of this entertainment.* An epilogue, specially 
written for the occasion by the popular Tom D'Urfeyf 
was spoken by Lady Dorothy Buck. Tate's libretto is 
not without considerable charm and pathos, and he 
deserves high meed of praise for his English recitative 
which Purcell has set to divine music. The connexion 
between Brutus of Alba and Dido and Mneas, which has 
not hitherto been remarked, is very close. Witches 
appear both in the tragedy and in the opera, and a 
detailed comparison would evince that striking similarity 
which might be expected in two dramatic presentations 
of the same story from the same pen. 

The Loyal General, produced at Dorset Gardens in the 
winter of 1679, is a drama of swift, intensive incident, 
of treachery, intrigue, and war. Henry Harris acted the 
King, who concludes the play by his retirement to a 
hermit's grot ; Betterton, the faithful Theocrin ; Jevon, 
Escalus the traitor; Mrs. Mary Lee, Arviola; Mrs. 
Elizabeth Currer, the amorous Queen; and Bowman, 
Pisander, her gallant. 

Of the plays written by Tate after his success with 

pieces dealing with Dido, from The Tragedie of Dido Queene of 
Carthage : Played by the Children of her Maiesties Chappell. 
Written by Christopher Marlowe and Thomas Nash. Gent. 4to, 
1594, to F. C. Bumand's burlesque. Dido, produced at the S. 
James Theatre, London, with Charles Young in the title-role, 
Clara St. Casse as ^Eneas, and Miss Wyndham as Anna. 

* " Purcell's Dramatic Music," Sammelhdnde of the Inter- 
national Music Society, vol. 5. 

t Printed in D'Urfey's New Poems, 1690. 

Introduction Ixxvii 

King Lear, an alteration of Richard, II is especially 
interesting. Brought out at the Theatre Royal in the 
spring of 1681, with an epilogue spoken by the favourite 
Mrs. Sarah Cook, it had but a very short life, as for 
poUtical reasons it was " Silenc'd on the Third Day." 
It may be remembered that well-nigh a century before, 
in 1601, Queen Ehzabeth had complained angrily of some 
tragedy on the same subject that was " played fourtie 
times in open streets and houses," bitterly exclaiming 
to Lambard in her wrath : " I am Richard the Second, 
knowe yee not that?" Already in 1599 Sir John Hay- 
ward, who in his first part of the Life and Raigne of 
King Henry the Fourth had given an account of the 
deposition of Richard, had been summoned before the 
Star Chamber, sharply reprimanded, and imprisoned. 
The first two quartos, 1597 and 1598, of Shakespeare's 
own play omit the deposition scene, and it is not until 
the third quarto, 1608, that the " woeful pageant " 
appears, attention to which is called on the title-page 
which announces as new in print " additions of the 
Parhament Sceane and the deposing of King Richard." 
That the rage of Ehzabeth and the apprehensions of the 
authorities were not without good warrant was shown 
by an incident connected with the rising of Essex in 1601. 
On the afternoon immediately preceding the outbreak, 
a play concerned with the deposition of Richard II was 
enacted. Moreover, it had been particularly bespoken 
by Sir GUly Merrick, one of the conspirators, and the 
arrangement was made with Augustine Phillips, a 
member of the company to which Shakespeare belonged. 
The play in question was performed at the Globe, and 
perhaps it was Shakespeare's Richard II * 

* On the other hand the official account of Essex's conspiracy 
says that " the playe was old," and Camden speaks of it as an 
" old out-worne " piece. The actors declared they would lose 

Ixxviii Shakespeare Adaptations 

At a time when party rancour was at its hottest, when 
the whole country had been convulsed by the illegal 
Exclusion Bill engineered by " A Name to all succeeding 
Ages curst," the ' unprincipled Shaftesbury, who was 
daily instigating his weak tool, Monmouth, to open 
insurrection and revolt, the story of Richard II seems 
to have been an unwise choice — to say the least — to 
have selected for the public stage. There can be small 
wonder that the actors were speedily ordered to with- 
draw a play, which might be supposed necessarily to 
teem with improper parcdlels and dangerous allusions 
political partisans could harmfully snatch at to the 
inflaming of their prejudice and passions. Nevertheless, 
Tate was bitterly disappointed that his drama had been 
thus " stifled," and when it was printed, quarto, the 
same year as The History of King Richard the Second 
acted at the Theatre Royal under the Name of the Sicilian 
Userper, he wrote a " Prefatory Epistle in Vindication 
of the Author, occasioned by the Prohibition of the 
Play on the Stage." The piece had, indeed, been played 
twice, but even so at the eleventh hour the author was 
obliged to change the locale of his scenes from England 
to Sicily, and ordered to rename his characters so that 
the connexion with native history might be as far as 
possible obscured. Accordingly, in his preface, Tate 
complains that, " For the two days in which it was Acted 
the Change of the Scene, Names of Persons, &c., was a great 
Disadvantage : many things were by this means render' d 
obscure and incoherent that in their native Dress had 
appear' d not only proper but gracefull. I call'd my persons 
Sicilians but might as well have made 'em Inhabitants of 

if they revived it, and were promised " forty shillings extra- 
ordinary " as a compensation for the pains they were at to 
produce it. Shakespeare's Richard II could hardly be considered 
" old " or " out-wome " in February 1601. 

Introduction Ixxiy 

the Isle of Pines,* or, World in the Moonf for whom an 
Audience are like to have small Concern. Richard II 
accordingly is Oswald ; Gaunt, Alcidore ; York, Cleon ; 
Bullingbrook, Vortiger ; Northumberland, Hermogenes ; 
and the Queen, Aribell. We have a scene with the 
mobile, a " Shoemaker, Farrier, Weaver, Tanner, 
Mercer, Brewer, Butcher, Baker, and infinite others." 

In spite of his ill hap with Richard II, Tate soon tried 
his hand yet again at a new version of another of Shake- 
speare's tragedies, and in December 1681, there was 
produced at the Theatre Royal " The Ingratitude of a 
Common-wealth or The Fall of Caius Martius Corio- 
lanus." Here Act V is wholly Tate's invention, and 
although he worked upon somewhat violent and 
irregular lines, he seems to have done his best to put 
dramatic movement and effect into the very dull and 
declamatory original. In his preface he candidly asserts 
that he chose Coriolanus for adaptation because " there 
appeared in some passages no small resemblance with 
the busie faction of our own time," and after the 

* A New and further Discovery of the Isle of Pines, by Henry 
Nevile, i2mo, 1668, was a romance in a letter professing to 
emanate from Cornelius van Sloetton, a Dutchman. The 
imaginary island was placed in the centre of the Indian Ocean, 
and the polygamous hero who was wrecked there, travaillait si 
bienthat an ideal commonwealth consisting of twelve thousand 
English Protestants shortly flourished. This extravagant fiction 
was attacked in Das Verdaechtige Pineser Eyland, Hamburg, 
1668, but it was none the less extremely popular, and there is 
a French version, Nouvelle Decouverte de I'Isle Pin/s situe'e au 
deld de la ligne aequinodiale. Faite par un Navire Hollandais Van 
1667, 4to, 1668. This was translated into Italian as Nuovo 
scoprimento dell' Isola Pines. . . . i2mo [1670 ?]. 

t An allusion to Cyrano de Bergerac's '2i\r}vapxia, or the 
Government of the World in the Moon : Done into English by 
Tho. St. Serf, Gent. (i6mo, 1659). 

Ixxx Shakespeare Adaptations 

rebuff he had experienced over The Sicilian Usurper, he 
was no doubt anxious to invite Court favour by 
satirizing the turbulent Whigs and their plebeian 
satellites. The character of Valeria has been consider- 
ably elaborated a la mode, and she appears as a fantas- 
tical talkative lady, a manifest imitation of Jonson's 
Sempronia.* She also delivers the epilogue. In Novem- 
ber 1719 there was brought out at Drury Lane another 
version of Coriolanus, altered by John Dennis as The 
Invader of his Country ; or, The Fatal Resentment, with 
Booth as Coriolanus and Mrs. Porter, Volumnia. It was 
acted thrice. Yet a third adaptation, Coriolanus, or The 
Roman Matron, attributed to Thomas Sheridan, was 
seen at Covent Garden in December 1754, with Sheridan 
as the hero. Peg Wofhngton, Veturia, and Mrs. Bellamy, 
Volumnia. These two favourite actresses, it is inter- 
esting to note, had sustained the same characters in 
James Thomson's cold and correct Coriolanus, which 
was first performed at Covent Garden, 13 January 1749, 
when " speech-fam'd " Quin played the title-role to the 
vast admiration of the town. Throughout Thomson's 
tragedy the unity of place is strictly observed, the scene 
lying in the Volscian camp. 

In the autumn of 1684 there was produced at the 
Theatre Royal A Duke and No Duke,] a three act 

* The great representative of Sempronia was Mrs. Corey. 
When Cataline was revived at the Theatre Royal on Friday, 
18 December 1668, her mimicry (at the instigation of Lady 
Castlemaine) of Lady Harvey caused something like a riot in 
the house. 

t The production is often misdated as 1685. A Duke and No 
Duke was published 1685, " With the several Songs set to 
Musick, with thorough Basses for the Theorbo or Bass-Viol. 
Quarto. Price is." One of the songs, set by Baptist, Wcis written 
by Sir George Etherege. The title seems to have been suggested 
by A King and No King. 

Introduction Ixxxi 

adaptation by Tate from Sir Aston Cokain's Trappolin 
suppos'd a Prince, itself founded upon a famous Italian 
mime* Trappolin Creduto Principe. Trappolin was 
acted by Antony Leigh, who " was of the mercurial 
kind " and in humour " loved to take a full career " ; 
the Duchess of Florence by Mrs. Currer; whilst the 
epilogue was spoken by Joe Haines. Although in this 
extravaganza, as the Biographia Dramatica sententiously 
points out, " the whole design is absurd and impossible," 
yet it proved to have fun and laughter enough — however 
antic and whimsical — to secure it extraordinary popu- 
larity and a long life in the theatre. It was an especial 
favourite with so good a judge of these matters as 
Charles II. From time to time, it is true that in after 
days, Tate's scenes were something revised by later 
writers, such as Robert Drury, who in 1732 converted 
them by the addition of a number of new songs into a 
" farcical ballad opera," in which guise the old play was 
given with great success at Drury Lane as The Devil of a 
Duke ; or, Trappolin' s Vagaries. At Covent Garden, too, 

* Commedia dell' Arte all' Improviso. In his prologue, Gokain 
says of his play : 

" Ingenious Italy hath liked it well. 
Yet it is no translation ; for he ne'er 
But twice in Venice did it ever hear." 
The ItaUan Impromptu Comedy, so far from being printed, was 
but rarely even committed to writing. " The development of 
the intrigue by dialogue and action," J. A. Symonds explains, 
" was left to the native wit of the several players." In Cokain's 
Trappolin, many of the stock characters appear : Mattemores. 
the Spanish Captain; Mago, the wizard; PucaneUo; whilst 
TrappoUn is the equivalent of Scaramouch, and Fiametta, his 
sweetheart, is Colombine. 

After the Restoration, Cokain's play was acted with a new 
prologue written by Duffett. This is printed in his Poems (p. 22), 
1676 ; licensed for printing, September 1675. 


Ixxxii Shakespeare Adaptations 

a comic melodramatic burletta. The Duke and the Devil, 
produced in July 1818, was recognized to be none other 
than A Duke or No Duke, refurbished to suit the taste 
of the day. Amplified or curtailed as the case might 
require, Tate's farce held the stage for weU nigh one 
hundred and fifty years, and was still popular in the 
first quarter of the eighteenth century. 

In July-August 1685, was produced at the Queen's 
Theatre,* Dorset Gardens, Cuckold's Haven; or. An 
Alderman no Conjurer,^ which is an acknowledged 
alteration by Tate in three acts of Eastward Hoe, I with 
some conveyance from The Devil is an Ass. The play 
may be dated owing to a reference in the prologue 
anent Monmouth's abortive rebellion, which had just 
been quashed : 

" But now the Monster has her final Rout, 
The very dregs of Treason's Tap are out." 

* Formerly the Duke's. 

t Published quarto, 1685. " Cuckold's Haven ; or, An Alder- 
man no Conjurer. A Farce, acted at the Queen's Theatre. 
Written by N. Tate " {The Term Catalogues, Michaelmas [Nov- 
ember], 1685). Cuckold's Haven is a point on the Surrey side of 
the Thames, a httle below Rotherhithe Church. It was formerly 
marked by a high pole, crowned with a mighty pair of horns. 
See Industry and Idleness, Plate V. Hogarth, indeed, is generally 
said to have derived his idea of these pictures (1747) from 
Eastward Hoe. 

X Quarto, 1605. " As It was played in the Black-friers. By 
The Children of her Maiesties Revels. Made by Geo: Chapman. 
Ben: lonson. loh: Marston." It was probably produced in the 
spring of 1605. The history of this piece, which gave great 
offence at Court, has often been told. 

The Devil is an Ass, produced at the Blackfriars in 1616, is an 
admirable comedy. Says Swinburne : " The wealth of comic 
matter is only too copious." Pug, " the less devil," who has 
obtained leave to visit the earth is made an ass of on every 

Introduction Ixxxiii 

Another interesting allusion to the same event incident- 
ally shows the popularity of The Tempest : 

" Our Trinculo and Trapp'lin were undone 
When Lime's more Farcy Monarchy begun." *" 

Although Professor Parrott has seen fit to criticize 
somewhat prejudicially Tate's version of the Jacobean 
comedy. Cuckold's Haven is nevertheless a merry and 
amusing farce, and upon the stage it may well be 
conceived to have gone with considerable brio and verve. 
The piece was for the most part strongly supported. 
The lithe and nimble Jevon excelled as Quicksilver; 
Anthony Leigh, the most humorous comedian of the 
time, had good opportunities for his genius in Security 
" a Bawd and Usurer " ; Baker acted Golding; Gillo, 
Captain Seagull ; Joseph Williams, whose only fault — 
according to his harshest critic — was that occasionally 
" he loved his bottle better than his business," Sir 
Petronel Flash ; Haines, lawyer Bramble ; the inimit- 
able Mrs. Corey, Mrs. Touchstone; Susanna Percival, 
Girtred ; Mrs. Twiford, Mildred " the sober Daughter " ; 
Mrs. Price, Security's Wife. Unfortunately the produc- 
tion encountered several drawbacks, the chief being 
that, as Tate writes in his Dedication of the printed play, 
addressed to Colonel Edmund Ashton, " The Principal 
Part (on which the Diversion depended) was, by 
Accident, disappointed of Mr. Nokes's Performance, for 
whom it was design'd and only proper, which caus'd 

possible occasion. After the Restoration this play was frequently 
acted at the Theatre Royal before the two Companies amal- 
gamated in 1682. 

* The sting of this couplet Hes in the fact that — as will be 
remembered — Trinculo proclaims himself King of the Island, 
but his sovereignty only lasts a few hours; and Trappolin's 
dukeship was phantasmagorial. 

Ixxxiv Shakespeare Adaptations 

a Retrenchment of whole Scenes in the Action that are 
in this Copy inserted." This important role. Touchstone, 
was given to Thomas Percival, a useful actor, but of 
undistinguished mediocrity, and ill able to supply the 
place of the celebrated Nokes. According to Downes, 
Percival joined the theatre about 1673-4, a period of 
considerable changes, when the Duke's company was 
recruited by Anthony Leigh, Jevon, GiUo, Joseph 
Williams, Bowman, Mrs. Barry, Mrs. Currer, Charlotte 
Butler, and other admirable players who supphed the 
loss of Joseph Price, Lovell, Lilliston, Mrs. Davenport, 
Mrs. Jennings, MoU Davis, and several more of lesser 
note. From a list of Percival's characters we may soon 
gauge that, however industrious, he never rose above a 
very secondary position. In 1675 he acted Fortinbras 
in Hamlet, and during the winter of the same year 
Burbon * in Settle's Merovingian tragedy Love and 
Revenge, a wholesale conveyance from William Hem- 
minge's The Fatal Contract, quarto, 1653, a drama 
which had at its original production been received with 
great favour. There is a little known edition of Hem- 
minge's play, quarto, 1661, and it was again reprinted 
in 1687 under the title The Eunuch. In the spring of 
1676 Percival took the smaU role of the Apothecary in 
D'Urfey's amusing comedy A Fond, Husband ; or. The 
Plotting Sisters, which owed the most part of its extra- 
ordinary success to the magnificent performance of 
Anthony Leigh as Fumble, " a superannuated Alderman, 
that dotes on Black Women : He's very deaf and almost 
blind; and seeking to cover his imperfection of not 

* This reference I owe to Mr. G. Thom-Drury. We had 
independently made lists of the characters played by Percival, 
and he kindly suppUed me with five roles which escaped my 
notice : Burbon {Love and Revenge) ; Grisolan (The Duchess of 
Malfi) ; Randall {The Jovial Crew) ; Dr. Quibus {The Factious 
Citizen) ; Trevile {Rollo). 

Introduction Ixxxv 

hearing what is said to him, answers quite contrarily." 
In August-September 1676 we find Percival as Ordgano, 
" Vallet to Don Diego " in Ravenscroft's The Wrangling 
Lovers;* in the autumn he is Osmin, a Moor, in Mrs. 
Behn's Ahdelazer ; or The Moor's Revenge; f in October 
Old Monylove in Tom Essence ; or, The Modish Wife, 
attributed by HazHtt to Ravenscroft, but by other 
writers to Thomas RawHns; in November-December 
Carino, Foster-father to Mirtillo, in Settle's Pastor Fido, 
or. The Faithful Shepherd, an adaptation for the theatre 
of Fanshawe's translation from Guarini;J and during 
the winter of that year Leander in Otway's native and 
racy transcript from Mohere, The Cheats of Scapin. In 
March 1677 Percival acted Memnon, an Egyptian Lord, 
in Sedley's heroic tragedy Antony and Cleopatra, " the 
only tragedy," according to Shad well, " except two 
of Johnson's, and one of Shakespeare's, wherein Ro- 
mans are made to speak and do like Romans " ; in 
July, Truro, Claudio's servant, in Thomas Porter's The 
French Conjurer ;\\ in July- August Darmetas, servant to 

* Mrs. Centlivre's The Wonder, a Woman keeps a Secret is 
indebted to this comedy. 

f A very good alteration of Lust's Dominion ; or, The Las- 
civious Queen. 

X The character in the original is Carino, " Vecchio, padre 
putativo di Mirtillo." Pastoral plays were fashionable with those 
who affected culture, and also popular largely because of the 
boundless opportunities for scenic decoration and effect. So 
Pepys notes, 13 June 1663, that The Faithful Shepherdess was 
" much thronged after, and often shown, but it is only for the 
scene's sake, which is very fine indeed and worth seeing." 
On Tuesday, 25 February 1668, Pepys saw " The Faythful Shep- 
herd," a version from Guarini, played at the Nursery, but he 
writes, it was acted " in the meanest manner that I was sick 
of it." 

II The plot is founded upon episodes in Guzman d'Alfarache. 

Ixxxvi Shakespeare Adaptations 

Sylvanus, in The Constant 'Nymph ; or. The Rambling 
Shepherd, " Written by a Person of Quality," and 
supported by an extremely strong cast which included 
Samuel Sandford, Matthew Medbourne, GUlo, Thomas 
Jevon, Mrs. Mary Lee, Mrs. Barry, Mrs. Norris, Mrs. 
Anne Quin, and Mrs. Betterton. The scene lies in 
Arcadia. Percival played Sir Gregory Lovemuch, The 
Counterfeit Bridegroom ; or. The Defeated Widow 
(altered by Mrs. Behn from Middleton's No Wit, No 
Help Like a Woman's) a vacation play of 1677 ; in the 
autumn Philippo in Mrs. Behn's excellent comedy The 
Rover ; or. The Banished Cavalier (I) ; Grisolan in a 
revival of The Duchess of Malfi., with Betterton as 
Bosola, Henry Harris, Ferdinand, and Mrs. Betterton, 
the Duchess ; Isander, a senator in Shadwell's Timon of 
Athens, December 1677 (or perhaps early January 1678). 
In the summer of 1678 he was Dormilon in Leanerd's 
The Counterfeits* In the autumn of 1679 Percival 
appeared as Granius in Otway's Caius Marius;^ and as 
Vitellizzo, Chief of the Vitehi, in Lee's Caesar Borgia. 
He also doubled Priam and Calchas in Dryden's Troilus 
and Cressida ; or, Truth Found too Late. In the spring 
of 1680 he was Old Lord Clifford in Crowne's The 
Misery of Civil-War, a palpable adaptation of King 
Henry VI (2nd part), although the prologue says: 

" For by his feeble skill, 'tis built alone. 

The divine Shakespear did not lay one stone." 

In a far greater play, Otway's The Orphan, brought out 
that same year, he was the Chaplain. In Lee's Lucius 
Junius Brutus, produced before June 1681, and " acted 

* Colley Gibber's She Wou'd and She Wou'd Not ; or, the Kind 
Impostor owes much to this comedy. 

f A version of Romeo and Juliet. Smith acted Marius junior 
(Romeo), Mrs. Barry, Lavinia (Juliet), and Nokes, in petticoats 
as the Nurse, made the house rock with laughter. 

Introduction Ixxxvii 

at the Duke's Theatre for six days; but then pro- 
hibited " for pohtical reasons, he appeared as a FecUian 
Priest. In Otway's masterpiece, Venice Preserv'd, 
February 1682, he was Spinosa, a conspirator ; and later 
in the spring he played in D'Urfey's capital comedy. The 
Royalist, Captain Jonas " A Seditious Rascal that 
disturbs the People with News and Lyes to Promote his 
own Interest." It has with much probability been 
suggested that Captain Jonas may be intended for Sir 
William Jones, the Attorney-General, a sour, opinion- 
ated old Whig, whom Dryden has pilloried for ever as : 

" BuU-fac'd Jonas, who coud Statutes draw 
To mean Rebellion, and make Treason Law."* 

In 1682, at the amalgamation of the two companies, the 
Duke's players removed from Dorset Garden to the 
Theatre Royal, which opened under the new union, 16 
November. On 4 December The Duke of Guise, a tragedy 
by Dryden and Lee, was produced. It is obviously 
political, and the Whigs did their titmost, but in vain, 
to prevent the performance. Pamphlets were written, 
and Dryden was obliged to publish A Vindication of the 
Duke of Guise, 4to, 1683. In the course of his remarks he 
has occasion to speak of the playing, and he particularly 
mentions the Night Scene (Act IV) between the wizard 
Malicorne and his famihar Melanax, " which is one of 
the best in the Tragedy though murder'd in the Acting." 
Percival was Malicorne and Gillo the demon. At the 
retirement of Hart and Mohun, who had excelled in 
Brutus and Cassius, Julius Caesar, hitherto the special 
property of Killigrew's company, became available for 
Betterton and the rest. It was accordingly produced in 
1683 with Cardell Goodman as Caesar; Betterton, 
Brutus ; Smith, Cassius ; Kynaston, Antony (his old 

* Absalom and Achiiophel, The First Part (1681), 581-2. 

Ixxxviii Shakespeare Adaptations 

role) ; Lady Slingsby, Calphurnia ; Sarah Cook, Portia. 
Percival was cast for Artemidorus the sophist of Cnidos. 
In the late winter of that year was revived another play 
also that had belonged exclusively to KiUigrew, Brome's 
charming comedy A Jovial Crew, in which Percival 
played Randall. In the autumn of 1684 we find him as 
Mago, A Duke and, No Duke, and in the following year 
he appeared in place of Nokes, as we have already seen, 
as Touchstone in Cuckold's Haven. In 1685 also he 
played Dr. Quibus in The Factious Citizen ; or, The 
Melancholy Visioner, with Underbill as Timothy Turbu- 
lent ; Leigh, Abednego Suckthumb, and Nokes, Cringe, 
" a iDalderdash poet." In July- August 1685 Percival 
was Boldsprite, the Ship's Master, in D'Urfey's A 
Commonwealth of Women,* and in the winter of the same 
year he acted Trevile in a revival of Rollo.'\ In January 
1686 we find him as Lopez, a Mathematician, in 
D'Urfey's The Banditti ; or, A Ladies Distress, and 
February of the same year at Dorset Garden he played 
the Cook in Jevon's admirable farce The Devil ofaWife,X 
Jevon himself acted Jobson, and Sue Percival, Nell. In 
a slightly altered, but by no means an improved, form as 
The Devil to Pay,\\ produced at Drury Lane, 6 August 
1731, this farce kept the stage until the first quarter of 

* An alteration of Fletcher's The Sea-Voyage, which was 
frequently played at the Theatre Royal during the first decade 
after the Restoration. 

I Hart had excelled as Rollo ; Kynaston played Otto ; Mohun, 
Aubrey; Burt, La Torch; Mrs. Corey, the Duchess; and Mrs. 
Marshall, Edith. 

I In his preface to The Banditti, 4to, 1686, D'Urfey has a 
sneer at the success of Jevon's play. 

II A version by Charles Coffey. As late as December 1852 an 
adaptation called The Basket-Maker's Wife was produced at 
Niblo's Garden, New York. 

Introduction Ixxxix 

the nineteenth century. Kitty CHve and Dora Jordan 
both excelled in the role of Jobson's wife. 

From his intimate knowledge of the period in question 
Mr. G. Thorn-Drury has generously furnished me with 
the following interesting account of Percival, the details 
of which have hitherto been uncollected : " Thomas 
Percivall, of the Parish of St. Martins in the Fields, {that 
lately belonged to the Play-house) was indicted, for that 
he being a person not having God before his Eyes, nor 
weighing his Duty and Allegiance to our Sovereign Lord 
and Lady the King and Queen, but endeavouring and 
intending to deceive the King and People, he did falsely 
and traiterously chp, cut, file, and diminish the Current 
Coin of England. The Evidence for the King deposed, 
that when they came to search his Lodgings on the loth 
of September last, he run away, but was soon stopt, and 
in his Pocket was found a small Paper of Clippings ; and 
over his Beds-head was found another little Bag of 
Clippings, which was shewed to the Jury; and a pair 
of Shears, which were seen to drop from the Prisoner 
in the Street as he run away ; which he did not deny ; 
adding that he found the Shears and the Clippings in a 
Closet where he lodged, and was going to carry them to 
Mr. Justice Bridgmans when Mr. Dunn came upon him ; 
but he was askt why he run away when he saw Mr. 
Dunn; he said, because he was afraid of falling into 
their hands, which was easily believed ; He was found 
guilty of High Treason." " The Proceedings of the 
King \sic\ and Queens Commissions of the Peace, and 
Oyer and Terminer and Gaol-Delivery of Newgate, held 
for the City of London, and County of Middlesex, at 
Justice-Hall in the Old Bayly. On Thursday, Friday, 
Saturday, Monday and Tuesday, being the 12th, 13th, 
14th, i6th, and 17th Days of October 1693. And in the 
Fijth Year of Their Majesties Reign, (fol. p. 4). • • - 

xc Shakespeare Adaptations 

Received, Sentence of Death, 22 . . . Thomas Percival ..." 
{ihici., p. 6). Mr. Thorn-Drury has also supphed me 
with the following extracts from Luttrell : "12 Sep- 
tember 1693. On Sunday Mr. Percival belonging to the 
playhouse, and yesterday some others, were committed 
to Newgate for clipping ; tho' 6 were condemned for it 
this sessions, and 5 women who formerly pleaded their 
bellies, are ordered to be executed." " 14 Oct. 1693. 
Thursday the sessions began at the Old BaUy's . . . 
Percival, the player, found guilty of chpping." " 17 
Oct. 1693. This day the sessions ended at the Old 
Baily, where 17 received sentence of death; amongst 
them . . . Mr. Percival and 6 other clippers." " 24 Oct. 
1693. Yesterday 14 malefactors were executed at 
Tyburn ; 6 of them clippers . . . Percival and Dear, two 
clippers, were reprieved." LuttreU is the authority also 
for the statement that Mrs. Mountford was told that 
her father's life would be spared if she abandoned her 
appeal against the acquittal of Lord Mohun.* Percival 
got as far as Portsmouth on his way to transportation, 
but died and was buried there. 

In 175 1 Garrick foolishly substituted Eastward Roe 
at Drury Lane, on Lord Mayor's Day, 29 October, for 
the traditional performance of Ravenscroft's popular 
The London Cuckolds. The result of his egregious blunder 

* Susanna Percival, Thomas Percival's daughter, became 
famous as an actress. She married William Mountford, and some 
time after his dastardly assassination by Lord Mohun, she 
became en secondes noces Mrs. Verbruggen. Mountford was 
stabbed by Lord Mohun, a fellow of the vilest character, on the 
night of 9 December 1691. He lingered until the next day. 
Gibber, who has devoted the most brilliant pages of his Apology 
to an encomium of Mrs. Mountford's genius, writes that she 
" was mistress of more variety of humour than I ever knew in 
any one woman actress. . . . Nothing, though ever so barren, 
if within the bounds of nature could be flat in her hands." 

Introduction xci 

was that in spite of the fine acting of Yates as Touch- 
stone, Woodward as Quicksilver, " swaggering " Jack 
Palmer as Sir Petronel Flash, and Kitty Clive as 
Girtred, the piece was fairly hissed, hooted, and pippin- 
pelted from the boards, and a second representation 
could not be so much as attempted. 

Old, City Manners, a genteel adaptation of Eastward 
Hoe from the pen of Mrs. Lennox, produced at Drury 
Lane, g November 1775, was received with considerable 
favour. As one might expect, somewhat detrimental 
changes were made, and the full-flavoured speech of 
James' day has been finically emasculated. Baddeley 
of Twelfth-cake fame acted Touchstone; and James 
Dodd, " the most exquisite coxcomb, the most ridiculous 
chatterer ever seen," Quicksilver. 

Charlotte Lennox (1720-1804) was a miscellaneous 
writer of some distinction and a not unskilful dramatist. 
The work by which she is best remembered is The 
Female Quixote, two volumes, i2mo, 1752, an agreeable 
and ingenious satire upon the romances of De la Cal- 
prenede and Madeleine de Scuderi. Dr. Johnson thought 
extravagantly of this lady's talent, and unfortunately 
his compliments quite turned her head, so that " nobody 
liked her." Her latter years were saddened by sickness 
and want, and she died a pensioner on the Royal 
Literary Fund. 

About Easter, 1687, was revived at the Theatre 
Royal Fletcher's excellent play The Island Princess,* 
with alterations by Tate, which seem quite unnecessary, 
but are, indeed, of no great moment, being mainly 
concerned with the phrasing of the dialogue. Kynaston 
acted the King of Tidore ; Gillo the Governor of Ternata ; 
Smith, Armusia; Grif&n, Ruy Dias; Sarah Cooke, 
Quisara the Princess ; and Susanna Mountford, Panura. 

* Folio, 1647, Acted at Court Christmas, 1621. 

xcii Shakespeare Adaptations 

Always popular, The Island Princess again proved to 
have lost no whit of its attraction for the town. In 
January 1669 The Island Princess* (with alterations) 
had been produced at the Theatre Royal, the first 
Drury Lane. The cast was as follows : King of Tidore, 
Edward Kynaston; King of Bakam, Marmaduke 
Watson; Prince of Syana, Grayden; Governor of 
Temata, WiUiam Cartwright ; Armusia, Charles Hart ; 
Ruy Dias, Michael Mohun ; Christophero, Richard Bell ; 
Emanuel, William Beeston; Soza, Nicholas Burt; 
Piniero, Robert Shotterel; Pedro, William Harris; 
Captain, Lyddal; Quisara, Mrs. Marshall; Quisana, 
Mrs. Corey; Panura, Mrs. Margaret Hughes. There is 
no doubt that the scope for scenic display — an oppor- 
tunity of which every advantage was taken — suggested 
the revival and maintained the popularity of this 
romantic drama. On Thursday, 7 January 1668-9, Pepys 
saw The Island Princess, " the first time I ever saw it ; 
and it is a pretty good play, many good things being in 
it, and a good scene of a town on fire." On Tuesday, 
9 February, at a second visit he liked it " mighty well, 
as an excellent play," whilst Friday, 23 April, he writes : 
" to the King's playhouse, and saw ' The Generous 
PortugaUs,' a play that pleases me better and better 
every time we see it." The Island Princess is, indeed, 
deserving of this warm commendation. 

Of The Island Princess^ " Made into an Opera," 
" AU the Musical Entertainments, and the greatest part 

* The Island Princess ; or the Generous Portugal, 4to, 1669. 

t Quarto, 1699. " Two new Dialogues set by Mr. Jeremiah 
Clarke, sung in the last revived Play, called " The Island 
Princess, or The generous Portuguese, newly made into an 
Opera,' " were given in Twelve New Songs, folio, 1699. " The 
Prologue, Song-Tunes, Dances, Dialogues, and Epilogue, in the 
last New Opera, The Island Princess," were pubHshed in The 
Compleat Instructor to the Flute, 1699. 

Introduction xciii 

of the Play New, and Written by Mr. Motteiix," there is 
nothing good to report. Produced at the Theatre Royal 
in December 1698, this " Opera " had a great success 
owing to the music " charmingly compos'd " by Daniel 
Purcell and Jeremiah Clarke, together with the fine 
singing of Leveridge, Pate, and Mrs. Lindsey. It was 
further helped by the most ornate scenic decoration and 
a crowd of supers. Having mutilated the original 
without judgement or mercy Mr. Peter Motteux in his 
address " To the Reader " coolly announces : " Tho 
Mr. Fletcher's Island Princess was frequently acted of 
old, and revived twelve years ago, with some Alterations, 
the Judicious seem'd satisfy'd, that it wou'd hardly have 
been relish' d now on the Stage. As I found it not unfit 
to he made what we here call an Opera, I undertook to 
revise it, but not as I wou'd have done, had I design'd a 
correct Play. Let this at once satisfy the Modern Critics 
and the zealous Admirers of Old Plays ; for I neither 
intended to make it regular, nor to keep in it all that I 
lik'd in the Original, but only what I thought fit for my 
Purpose ; and the Success has answer' d my Intent, far 
beyond Expectation." Smartly did the author of The 
Grove ; or. The Rival Muses* (1701) write : 

" Motteux and Durfey are for nothing fit, 

But to supply with Songs their want of Wit. 

Had not the Island Princess been adorn'd 

With Tunes, and pompous Scenes, she had been scorn'd. 

What was not Fletcher's, no more Sense contains, 

Than he that wrote the Jubilee has Brains ; 

Which ne'er had pleas'd the Town, or purchas'd 

But that 'twas christ'ned with a modish Name." 

* Poems on Affairs of State, vol. IV (1707). 

xciv Shakespeare Adaptations 

Farquhar's The Constant Couple, or a Trip to the 
Jubilee* to which a passing allusion is here made, must 
be acknowledged to be a tinselly piece of work, although 
its sham wit and varnish proved effective by candle- 
light when Wilks or Peg Woffington in breeches played 
Sir Harry Wildair. The trick has deceived many a 
bat's-eyed critic in the past, and cozens the unwary even 
to-day. Inasmuch, however, as The Constant Couple no 
longer holds the boards, the modern has scant excuse 
for his simplicity, f 

* Produced November 1699 at Drury Lane. Quarto, 1700. 

Although of more ancient institution the first recorded Jubilee 
was celebrated by Boniface VIII in 1300. Since 1450 (Nicholas 
V) the Jubilee has been held every twenty-five years until the 
present time, with the three exceptions of 1800, 1850, and 1875, 
when, owing to political disturbances this holy function was 
omitted. The Jubilee is defined by Moroni as : " Un' indulgenza 
plenaria e straordinaiia concessa dal sommo Pontefice alia 
Chiesa universale o parziahnente a Roma massima nell' anno 
Santo." Innocent XII (Antonio PignatelH), who was elected, 
12 July 1691, proclaimed: " il guibileo pel felice govemo del 
pontificate." Of the Sixteenth Anno Santo, Gaetano Moroni 
in his vast Dizionario di Erudizione Storico-Ecclesiastica (Venice, 
1840), says: " Aperto fu qiiest' Anno Santo nel 1699 da Inno- 
cenzo XII e chiuso nel 1700 da Clemente XI." Innocent XII 
died 27 September 1700, and Clement XI (Giovanni Francesco 
Albani) was elected 23 November 1700. This Jubilee and Anno 
Santo were announced by Innocent XII in his bull Regi saecu- 
lorum, 18 May 1699. The splendid ceremonies attracted to the 
Eternal City a vast concourse, amongst whom were many 
strangers of princely rank, and, in particular, a large number of 
Enghshmen of quality, who were making the grand tour. 

f Swinburne strongly inveighed against the habit of undis- 
ceming critics who bracket Marlowe's name with Greene and 
Peele. One may protest with equal warmth against the slovenly 
custom of placing Farquhar in dramatic connexion with Con- 
greve and Vanbrugh. This confusion is probably due to the 

Introduction xcv 

It may be noted that there was a revival of The 
Island Princess (Motteux) at Covent Garden, lo 
December 1739. Ryan played Armusia ; Johnson, the 
Governor of Ternata ; and the beautiful Mrs. Horton,, 

In 1707 was pubUshed " Injur 'd Love, or The Cruel 
Husband, a Tragedy, design'd to be Acted at the 
Theatre Royal, written bv Mr. N. Tate, AUTHOR OF 
Love, which appears never to have been acted, is nothing 
else than a useless version of The White Devil. Webster's 
great masterpiece had been revived in September 1661 
by Killigrew's company at their theatre in Bear Yard,. 
Vere Street, Clare Market, with signal success. It 
remained a stock piece, | and was frequently acted at 

collected edition of Leigh Hunt, who reprinted in one well-known 
volume (1840) Wycherley, Congreve, Vanbrugh, and Farquhar. 
But no inference as to merit can thence be drawn. For Farquhar 
is of another kind and age. He belongs to the period of Colley 
Cibber and Mrs. Centlivre, nor is he their equal in comedy. He 
has, it is true, a certain bustle at times, and his best piece, The' 
Beaux Stratagem, gives homely pictures of small provincial hfe 
with some mildly mirthfrd touches. But if we compare him with 
Etherege or Vanbrugh how heavy does his dross appear! As 
might perhaps be expected superficial critics (no doubt from 
the old accident of his inclusion in the Leigh Hunt volume) still 
speak of this third-rate dramatist as the fellow of Wycherley 
and Congreve. 

* " Injured Love : or The Cruel Husband. A Tragedy. 
Written by Mr. Tate. Quarto. Price i8d." The Term Catalogues,. 
Trinity (July), 1707 ; Easter and Trinity (May and June), 1709. 

f Downes gives The White Devil among a hst of " Old Plays " 
by various authors, Shakespeare, Jonson, Fletcher, Shirley, 
Brome, etc., which were acted but now and then ; "yet being well 
performed, were very satisfactory to the Town." Pepys saw 
The White Devil twice, Wednesday, 2 October 1661, and again 
the following Friday. On both occasions, however, he was yery 

xcvi Shakespeare Adaptations 

the Theatre Royal until the retirement of Charles Hart, 
since which time it has never been presented upon the 
stage. In 1665 this tragedy was printed, 4to, " Acted 
(formerly by Her Majesties Servants) at the Phoenix in 
Drury-Lane, and AT THIS PRESENT (by His now 
Majesties) at the THEATRE ROYAL." There is also 
another edition, 4to, 1672, "As it is Acted at the 
Theatre Royal By his Majesties Servants."* Unfortun- 
ately the cast is not given in either case, and although 
it were idle to speculate how the roles might have been 
allotted one may, perhaps, venture the surmise that 
Vittoria was played by Mrs. Marshall. 

Upon the death of Shadwell Nahum Tate became 
Laureate, 24 December 1692, an appointment which was 
duly confirmed at the accession of Queen Anne. With 
the incoming of the Hanoverian line, however, he seems 
to have lost this post, as Nicholas Rowe, an aggressive 
Whig, succeeded him, i August 1715. Tate died, 12 
August 1715, in difficult and unfortunate circumstances.! 
/ Although, as we have seen, the revival of King Lear 
shortly after the Restoration is not chronicled as having 
attracted much notice, Nahum Tate's alteration of 
Shakespeare's tragedy, which was produced in the early 
spring of 1681 at the Duke's Theatre, Dorset Garden, 
was received with the greatest enthusiasm. The cast 
was, indeed, extremely strong, and WiUiam Smith, in 

late, and his impressions of the play are obviously dictated by 
ill humour and crossness. On 11 December (Wednesday) 1661, 
Herbert notes that Uittoria Corumbana was acted. 

* " Vittoria Corumbona ; or, The White DevU. ... In Quarto. 
Price, sticht, is." The Term Catalogues, Michaelmas (20 Novem- 
ber), 1671. 

t A complete and scholarly study of Nahum Tate is much to 
be desired. The account given by Ganon Leigh Bennett in the 
Dictionary of National Biography is inadequate and unreliable. 
It cannot be commended. 

Introduction xcvii 

particular, is traditionally said to have been admirable 
as Edgar.* Lady Slingsby.f n6e Mary Aldridge, and by 
her first marriage Mrs. Mary Lee, who played Regan, 
was a tragedienne of the highest rank, and Anne 
Shadwell, wife of Shadwell the poet, who acted GonerU, 
had long proved herself an actress endowed with con- 
summate ability. Strangely enough, however, it does 
not appear that Betterton's Lear and Mrs. Barry's 
Cordelia anywhere receive particular mention, although 
as Tate's version took its place as a stock piece it can 
hardly be supposed that such great artists were in- 
effective in these roles, which is not to say that Better- 
ton's Lear was equal to his Hamlet, Macbeth, and 
Melantius, or that Mrs. Barry's Cordelia was comparable 
to her Monimia, Belvidera, and Isabella. All the 
honours, indeed, seem to have gone to Smith, Lady 
Slingsby, and Mrs. Shadwell. 

Towards the end of his long career Betterton, then 
over seventy years of age, played the King in a special 
revival at the Haymarket,^o October 1706. Verbruggen 
acted Edgar; MiUs, Edmund; Freeman, Gloster; 
Minns, Kent ; Bowen, the Usher ; Tom Kent and WUl 
Peer J the Two Ruffians; Mrs. Bracegirdle, Cordelia. 

* After Smith's death in 1695 Edgar was played by George 

t Having retired from the stage some nine years, she died in 
February 1694, and was buried in old S. Pancras graveyard on 
I March. 

% WiUiam Peer was an actor of such little account that his 
very existence has been needlessly called in question. But a 
notice of him may be found in The Spectator. He was property- 
man at the theatre and played such roles as the Apothecary in 
Otway's Caius Marius {Romeo and Juliet) ; the Presbyterian 
Parson in D'Urfey's Love for Money (Theatre Royal, winter, 
1689); Jasper, a valet, in Shadwell's The Scowerers (Theatre 
Royal, December 1690). In Tom Brown's Letters from the Dead 


xcviii Shakespeare Adaptations 

" Much," pertinently remarks Davies, " has been said 
by Downs, by the Tatler, by Cibber, and others, of 
Betterton's uncommon powers of action and utterance 
in several of Shakespeare's principal parts, particularly 
Hamlet, Macbeth, Othello, and Brutus, but no writer 
has taken notice of his exhibition of Lear; a part of 
equal consequence, and requiring as perfect skill in the 
player as any of them. I am almost tempted to believe 
that this tragedy, notwithstanding that Tate's altera- 
tions were approved, was not in an such equal degree 
of favour, as Hamlet, Othello, and many other of our 
poet's dramas." 

After Betterton's death. Barton Booth, (who had 
worshipped the veteran almost to idolatry), whilst his 
triumph as Cato was fresh in aU memories, " undertook 
the representation of Lear, and was much admired in 
it." His performance is said to have been regal, yet 
fuU of passion and fire, and he excelled in the passages 
of passionate denunciation and wrath. His Edgar was 
Wilks, who proved particularly fine in the scenes of love 
and gallantry. " In the challenge of "Edmund," moreover, 
" Wilks was highly spirited with superior elegance of 
deportment." Miss Santlow, " famed for dance," who 
afterwards married Booth, was a pleasing Cordelia. 

Booth, however, had no mean competitor in a rising 
young actor, Antony Boheme. On 15 October 1720 King 
Lear, billed as " Never acted there " was produced at 
Lincoln's Inn Fields. Lear was played by Boheme; 
Edgar, Ryan; Gloster, Quin; Usher, Jemmy Spiller; 
Cordelia, Mrs. Seymour; Regan, Mrs. Parker. Boheme 
soon proved a very serious rival to Booth, and as Lear 
he was by many preferred to that stately tragedian. 

to the Living, we have an epistle from Julian, " late Secretary 
to the Muses," to Will Pierre of Lincoln's Inn Fields Playhouse. 
This actual letter was written by Boyer, together with the reply 
which is dated 5 November 1701. 

Introduction xcix 

Macklin said that the young actor " gave a trait of the 
antique " to his Lear. " In his person he was tall, his 
features were expressive, with something of the vener- 
able cast which gave force and authority to the various 
situations and passions of the character; the tones of 
his voice were equally powerful and harmonious, and his 
whole action suited to the age and feelings of Lear." 
Ryan, as Edgar, although not the equal of Wilks, was 
" manly and feeling," and in his scenes of feigned 
madness he displayed unsuspected talent. Quin as 
Gloster was justly celebrated,* and Jemmy ~Spillor 
proved an admirable Oswald. Tom Jevon, who originally 
played this part in 1681, had joined the Duke's company 
at the age of twenty-one, until which time he practised 
as a dancing-master, and upon the boards he was 
famous for his grace and nimbleness. Langbaine 
especially notes his " activity." He was our first 
Harlequin, and in low comedy of a fantastic and 
mercurial kind he won a great reputation. The role of 
the Steward seems to have been unpopular, for Davies 
tells us : "I have seen it acted by several eminent 
players, Yates, Shuter, King, Dodd, etc., but the 
character is so distasteful, and by the comedians falsely 
supposed to be unimportant, that all of them, of any 
note, no sooner get into the part but they grow tired 
and withdraw from it. He generally enters the stage in a 
careless disengaged manner, humming a tune, as if on 
purpose to give umbrage to the King by his neglect of 
him. Vernon was impudently negligent and character- 

* Davies in his Dramatic Miscellanies, II, pp. 304-5, writes 
that Quia was succeeded in the role of Gloster by " Hulet, a 
man of great merit in the sock and buskin. At Drury-lane the 
elder Mills acted Gloster with Booth. Ned Berry, a man of very 
considerable abilities in a great variety of parts, was Garrick's 
Gloster for many years." Upon Berry's retirement, Davies 
himself played Gloster and met with no little applause. 

c Shakespeare Adaptations 

istically provoking in Oswald; however he grew too 
great for the part, and it is now acted by an inferior 

After the death of Antony Boheme, Quin was per- 
suaded somewhat against his incHnations to essay Lear. 
He appeared as the old King for his benefit at Drury 
Lane on 8 March 1739. Milward acted Edgar; Mills, 
the Bastard; Theophilus Gibber, Oswald; Mrs. MUls, 
Cordelia ; and Mrs. Furnival, Goneril. Quin, however, 
is said to have fallen infinitely short of his predecessor, 
but being so accomplished an artist he was received 
with deserved applause. His genius would not allow 
him to be undistinguished, but his sound judgement did 
not permit him often to repeat so unsuitable a persona- 

The best Edmund during the eighteenth century is 
considered to have been Thomas Walker, f the original 
Macheath ; "his tread was manly, and his whole 
behaviour and deportment disengaged and command- 
ing." He was equally admired as the Bastard Faulcon- 
bridge in King John. 

Susannah Maria Gibber, 

" Mistress of each soft art, with matchless skill 
To turn and wind the passions as she will ; 
To melt the heart with sympathetic woe. 
Awake the sigh, and teach the tear to flow; J 

* Quin insisted upon no Jess than twenty-two rehearsals, but 
" being at that time young and dissipated, attended only two 
■of them." 

t 1698-1744. 

X The Rosciad. Tate Wilkinson used to say, that while be 
■could mimic Ganick, Quin, Mrs. Bellamy, and others, in such 
a manner as to give a strong idea of their powers, yet Mrs. 
Gibber's excellence was of that superior kind that he could only 
retain her in his mind's eye. Davies writes : " Mrs. Gibber, the 
most pathetic of all actresses, was the only Cordelia of excellence." 

Introduction ci 

was probably the tenderest and most charming CordeHa 
the stage has ever seen. What she looked hke — and she 
looked exquisitely beautiful — we can judge from the 
fine mezzotint after Peter van Bleeck, which was 
published in 1755, and has been often reproduced. The 
scene represented is that when Cordeha and Aranthe, 
wandering on the heath, are rescued by Edgar from the 
two Ruffians, Act III. 

On II March 1742, at Goodman Fields, David 
Garrick appeared as Lear for the first time. Mr. and 
Mrs. Giffard played Edgar and Cordelia. Four years 
later, 11 June 1746, he made his appearance in this role 
at Co vent Garden with Ryan as Edgar, and Mrs. 
Vincent, Cordeha. Lear appears from the united 
testimony of his contemporaries to have been the 
noblest effort of Garrick's genius, and the actor himself 
seems to have always regarded it as his very highest 
achievement.* " In Lear," writes Murphy, " Garrick 
was transformed into a weak old man, stiU retaining an 
air of royalty. In the mad scenes his genius was remark- 
ably distinguished. . . . During the whole time he 
presented a scene of woe and misery, and a total 
ahenation of mind from every idea but that of his 
unkind daughters." According to Davies: "Garrick 
rendered the curse so terribly affecting to the audience, 
that, during his utterance of it, they seemed to shrink 
from it as from a blast of lightning. His preparation for 
it was extremely affecting; his throwing away his 
crutch, kneehng on one knee, clasping his hands to- 
gether, and lifting his eyes towards heaven, presented 
a picture worthy the pencil of a Raphael." 

* If we may form an opinion, Garrick as an actor was by no 
means equal to Betterton. Charles Hait was infinitely superior 
to Betterton, and probably the greatest artist the English stage 
has ever seen. 

cii Shakespeare Adaptations 

On 26 February 1756 King Lear was revived at 
Covent Garden, at which house it was billed as " Not 
acted 10 years." Spranger Barry played Lear,* with 
Ryan as Edgar ; Luke Sparks, Kent ; Ridout, Gloster ; 
Smith, the Bastard ; Shuter, the Steward ; Miss Nossiter, 
Cordelia; and Mrs. Hamilton, Regan. Garrick im- 
mediately produced Lear at Drury Lane with Mrs. 
Gibber as Cordelia, and the rivalry between the two 
theatres divided the town. Epigrams were scattered 
" thick as autumnal leaves, that strew the brooks In 
VaUombrosa." Beringer smartly wrote : 

" The town has found out different ways 

To praise the rival Lears ; 
To Barry they give loud huzzas. 

To Garrick only tears." 

This was capped by : 

" A King — nay, every inch a King: 

Such Barry doth appear ; 
But Garrick's quite a different thing, 

He's every inch King Lear." 


Notwithstanding that Garrick bore away the palm 
on this particular occasion, Barry's Lear was a perform- 
ance of the very highest order. 

About this time Garrick was suddenly inspired to 
undo, in some measure, the work of Nahum Tate, and 
accordingly King Lear was announced at Drury Lane 
as " with restorations from Shakespeare." It is not 
improbable that he was influenced in this matter by 
certain pertinent passages in a pamphlet named An 
Examen of the Suspicious Husband (1747), where he read : 
" Why will you do so great an injury to Shakespeare as 
to perform Tate's execrable alteration of him ? Read and 

* Barry had acted Lear in Dublin, May 1755. 

Introduction ciii 

consider the two plays seriously and then make the 
public and the memory of the author some amends by 
giving us Lear in the Original, Fool and all (MackUn or 
Chapman will play it well). It can be no mitigation of 
your fault to plead that Tate has seduced you ; though 
you are not the principal, you are accessory to the 
murder, and wiU be brought in guilty."/ Garrick's 
version probably did not differ materially from King 
Lear as published by Bell " from the Prompt Book of 
Drury Lane " Tyjz-'^. The tragic catastrophe, which 
shocked Dr. Johnson so much that he " could hardly 
ever bring himself to read the scenes again untU he 
undertook to revise them as an editor," could not be 
risked, and although " it was once in contemplation 
with Mr. Garrick to restore the part of the fool, which 
he designed for Woodward, who promised to be very 
chaste in his colouring, and not to counteract the 
agonies of Lear : the manager would not hazard so bold 
an attempt ; he feared, with Mr. Colman, that the 
feehngs of Lear would derive no advantage from the 
buffooneries of the parti-coloured jester." 

Colman's version of King Lear was produced at 
Covent Garden 20 February 1768. Powell played the 
King; Smith, Edgar; Bensley, Edmund; Gibson, 
Gloster; Gushing, Oswald; Mrs. Yates, Cordelia; Mrs. 
Stephens, Goneril; Mrs. Du Bellamy, Regan. The 
attempt was a failure. The love between Edgar and 
Cordelia is omitted, but the happy ending remains. 
The Fool, " after the most serious consideration," 
Colman decided to omit as a character which, " being 
likely to sink into burlesque in the representation, 
would not be endured on the modern stage." But the 
pubhc would only suffer Tate's alteration, and Colman's 
lukewarm innovations met with scant favour. 

At Drury Lane, 8 June 1776, Garrick appeared as 
Lear for the last time. Two days later, 10 June, he 

civ Shakespeare Adaptations 

took his farewell of the stage, when he played Don 
FeHx in Mrs. Centlivre's The Wonder, A Woman keeps 
a Secret. 

Henderson, who acted Lear at Drury Lane 22 March 
1779, proved mediocre in this role. Jack Palmer was 
his Edmund, and Miss Younge, Cordelia. 

Cn 21 January 1788 King Lear, billed as " not acted 9 
years " was performed at Drury Lane for the benefit of 
Mrs. Siddons. Kemble appeared as Lear ; Mrs. Siddons 
was Cordelia ; Wroughton, Edgar ; Barrymore, Edmund ; 
Lamash, Oswald ; Mrs. Ward, Regan. Boaden was very 
impressed by Kemble's majesty and power: "The 
curse, as he then uttered it, harrowed up the soul ; . . . 
the countenance too, was finely made up, and his 
grandeur approached the most awful impersonation of 
Michael Angelo." But Kemble's Lear, which seems to 
have been too classic and statuesque, never ranked with 
his Coriolanus, his Cato, his Wolsey ; whilst Mrs. Siddons 
was obviously unsuited as Cordelia. 

At Covent Garden, 18 May 1808, Charles Kemble for 
his benefit acted Edgar, and Kemble again played Lear 
" the first time for eight years." At the same theatre, 
27 February 1809, the two brothers repeated these 
characters. Kemble then insisted upon restoring many 
of Tate's alterations, which in more recent years had 
been gradually excised. 

During the last illness of George III King hear, as a 
matter of natural delicacy and tact, had not been 
performed, but no sooner was the monarch dead than 
it was revived in the spring of 1820, both at Covent 
Garden (" Not acted 10 years "), and at Drury Lane. 
At the former theatre Lucius Junius Booth sustained 
Lear; Charles Kemble, Edgar; Macready, Edmund; 
Farley, Oswald ; Miss Booth, Cordeha ; and Miss Shaw, 
Aranthe. At Drury Lane, Kean was the Lear with Mrs. 
W. West as Cordelia ; Mrs. Glover, Goneril ; and Mrs. 

Introduction cv 

Egerton, Regan. Kean had intended to revive the 
tragic catastrophe, but he was dissuaded by a timorous 
manager from so daring an innovation. He excised at 
the moment, however, so far as he could, all that was 
not Shakespeare's, and early in 1823 he boldly presented 
the original fifth act. It was " received with silent tears. 
Every word seemed to come from a breaking heart." 
Kean's greatness as Lear has been described as "in the 
highest degree royal, lovable, refined, and powerful." 

On 30 March 1829, when Shakespeare's King Lear was 
billed with Young as Lear, and Miss Phillips, CordeUa, 
we still find Aranthe, acted by Miss Nicol, among the 
dramatis personae. 

It may be noted that " King Lear, A Tragedy in Five 
Acts by William Shakespeare ... as now performed at 
the Theatres Royal, London," is given in Dolby's 
British Theatre, 1824. This, a technical acting edition, 
has the whole of the stage business, entrances, exits, 
etc., marked in full detail. There is no mention of Tate, 
but the love scenes between Edgar and Cordelia, and 
her attempted seizure by the two Ruffians at Edmund's 
instigation are retained. Gloster is blinded off stage; 
the part of Oswald is considerably " written up " ; and 
many of Tate's verbal alterations and other whoUy un- 
Shakespearean passages occur. The catastrophe, how- 
ever, is tragic and follows the original closely. The 
King of France and the Fool have not yet been restored, 
but we find Aranthe, and Edward, the servant who 
endeavours to prevent the outrage upon Gloster. A 
printed cast has Kean as Lear; Wallack, Edgar; 
Younge, Edmund; Browne, Oswald; Miss Boyce, 
Goneril ; Mrs. Knight, Regan ; Mrs. W. West, Cordeha ; 
Miss PhiUips, Aranthe. 

On 25 January 1838, at Covent Garden, Macready 
revived Shakespeare's King Lear. He long hesitated to 
restore the Fool to, the stage, but at last he entrusted 

cvi Shakespeare Adaptations 

this role to Priscilla Horton, who interpreted it with the 
utmost dehcacy and charm. Elton played Edgar; 
Anderson, Edmund; Mrs. Clifford, Goneril; Mrs. 
Warner, Regan ; and Helen Faucit, Cordelia. Since that 
day Tate has disappeared from the modern theatre. It 
is true that Macready made cuts and transpositions, but 
seemingly there was only one actual interpolation — a 
few lines spoken by Gloster in the scene (Act V) when 
Edgar leaves him by the tree during the battle. The 
original of this speech, which is neither Tate's nor 
Shakespeare's, Professor OdeU was unable to discover. 
It may be found in the acting edition of King Lear, 
printed in Dolby's British Theatre, 1824. 

Most critics have passed the severest judgements upon 
the Restoration adaptations of Shakespeare, and in 
particular upon Nahum Tate's alteration of King Lear. 
Yet when we review these versions we must take into 
ample and understanding consideration the conditions 
under which they were prepared and the reasons why 
the plays were thus modified. In the first place it was 
not through any lack of appreciation of Shakespeare's 
genius. Without losing themselves in uncritical excesses 
the dramatists of the reign of Charles II yield to none 
in their admiration for Shakespeare. ShadweU speaks 
of the " inimitable hand of Shakespeare " :* Crowne 
refers to " The divine Shakespear '/ :f Tate writes : 

" Yet he presumes he may be safe to-day 

Since Shakespeare gave foundation to the play: J 

whilst Dryden in a well-known couplet declares : 

" But Shakespear's Magick could not copy'd be 
Within that Circle none durst walk but he."|| 

* Preface to The History of Timon of Athens, quarto, 1678. 
f Prologue to The Misery of Civil-War, quarto, 1680. 
% Prologue to The Ingratitude of a Commonwealth ; or. The 
Fall of Caius Martins Coriolanus, quarto, 1682. 
11 Prologue to The Tempest, quarto, 1670. 

Introduction cvii 

Such examples might be infinitely multipUed. But with 
the^ Restoration a new dramatic instrument had come 
into being. The picture stage had replaced the platform 
stage, and the picture stage necessitated the revision of 
plays, which were written for another method of 
presentation, but were now to be interpreted by another 
theatrical medium. That such revision was generally 
undertaken in accordance with the taste of the day is 
not denied, and very often the fashion of two and a half 
centuries ago seems to us preposterous and absurd. Yet 
judged by their own criterion and by what their public 
then demanded, the Restoration dramatists had good 
warrant for their adaptations. That the Davenant and 
Dryden The Tempest, and Tate's King Lear possessed 
theatrical attractiveness, which is surely in a play a 
quality of no mean order, is clearly demonstrable from 
the fact that both of these versions kept the stage until 
the first quarter of the nineteenth century.* And a 
drama which lives in the theatre for one hundred and 
fifty years cannot be ignorantly dismissed with a shrug 
and a sneer. The reason for such vitality must be 
seriously pondered and examined. 

Nor can we from another point of view afford to cast 
stones at Shadwell, at Tate, at Crowne, and D'Urfey 
for their alterations of Shakespeare. Until recent years 
it was only in few instances and on individual occasions 
that Shakespeare's plays were given in a coherent and 
unmutilated form. Even now many productions are 
chopped and cut, and honeycombed to boot with gags 
of meanest wit. One has been present at performances 
of Shakespeare's finest dramas which have been so 
mammocked and shorn that, without previous know- 

* An even more striking example, indeed, is Gibber's 
Richard III, which has held its own for over two hundred 
years. It was certainly acted ten or fifteen years ago ; and may 
still, perhaps, be seen in provincial theatres. 

■cviii Shakespeare Adaptations 

ledge, it would be impossible to follow the connexion of 
the plot or the sequence, of the scenes. The alterations 
in this case were made by men of neither discernment 
nor understanding. The alterations produced in 
Restoration times were the work of plaj^-rights of 
practical knowledge and no inconsiderable talent ; 
moreover, in two instances at least. The Tempest and 
Troilus and Cressida, they came from the pen of a 
dramatist of a genius supreme and unsurpassed. 




Enchanted Island. 



As it is now Acted at his Highness the Duke of York's 


Printed by J. ^M. for Henry Herringman at the "Blew 
Anchor in the Lower-walk of the S^w-Sxchange. 

M D C L X X. 




'"/ ^HE writing of Prefaces to Plays was probably 
1 invented by some very ambitious Poet, who never 
thought he had done enough : perhaps by some Ape of 
the French Eloquence, who uses to make a Business of a 
Letter of gallantry, an Examen of a Farce ; and in short, 
a great pomp and ostentation of words on every trifle. 
This is certainly the talent of that Nation, and ought 
not to be invaded by any other. They do that out of Gayety, 
which would be an imposition upon tis. 

We may satisfie our selves with surmounting them in 
the Sense, and safely leave them those trappings of writing, 
and flourishes of the Pen, with which they adorn the 
borders of their Plays, and which are indeed no more than 
good Landskips to a very indifferent Picture. I must 
proceed no farther in this argument, lest I run my self 
beyond my excuse for writing this. Give me leave therefore 
to tell you, Reader, that I do it not to set a value on any 
thing I have written in this Play, but out of gratitude to 
the Memory of Sir William Davenant, who did me the 
honour to joyn me with him in the alteration of it, 

It was originally Shakespear's : a Poet for whom he 
had particularly a high veneration, and whom he first 
taught me to admire. The Play, it self had formerly been 
acted with success in the Black- Fryers : and our excellent 
Fletcher had so great a vahie for it, that he thought fit to 
make use of the same Design, not much varied, a second 
time. Those who have seen his Sea- Voyage, may easily 

4 The Enchanted Island 

discern that it was a Copy of Shakespear's Tempest : the 
Storm, the desart Island, and the Woman who had never 
seen a Man, are all sufficient testimonies of it. But 
Fletcher was not the only Poet who made use of Shake- 
spear's Plot : Sir John Suckling, a profess' d admirer of 
our Author, has follow' d his footsteps in his Goblins ; 
his RegmeUa being an open imitation of Shakespear's 
Miranda; and his Spirits, though counterfeit, yet are 
copied from Ariel. But Sir William Davenant, as he was 
a Man of quick and piercing imagination, soon found that 
somewhat might be added to the Design of Shakespear, of 
which neither Fletcher nor Suckling had ever thought : 
and therefore to put the last hand to it, he design'd the 
Counterpart to Shakespear's Plot, namely, that of a Man 
who had never seen a Woman ; that by this means those 
two Characters of Innocence and Love might the more 
illustrate and commend each other. This excellent con- 
trivance he was pleas'd to communicate to me, and to 
desire my assistance in it. I confess that from the very 
first moment it so pleas'd me, that I never writ any thing 
with more delight. I must likewise do him that justice to 
acknowledge, that my writing received daily his amend- 
ments, and that is the reason why it is not so faulty, as 
the rest which I have done without the help or correction 
of so judicious a Friend. The Comical parts of the Saylors 
were also his Invention, and for the most part his Writing, 
as you will easily discover by the Style. In the time I writ 
with him, I had the opportunity to observe somewhat more 
neerly of him, than I had formerly done, when I had only 
a bare acquaintance with him : I found him then of so 
quick a Fancy, that nothing was propos'd to him, on 
which he could not suddenly produce a thought extreamly 
pleasant and surprizing : and those first thoughts of his, 
contrary to the old Latine Proverb, were not alwaies the 
least happy. And as his fancy was quick, so likewise- 
were the products of it remote and new. He borrowed not 

Preface 5 

of any other ; and, his imaginations were such as could 
not easily enter into any other man. His corrections were 
sober and judicious : and he corrected his own Writings 
much more severely than those of another man, bestowing 
twice the time and labour in polishing, which he us'd in 
invention. It had perhaps been easie enough for me to 
have arrogated more to my self than was my due in the 
writing of this Play, and to have pass'd by his name 
with silence in the publication of it, with the same in- 
gratitude which others have us'd to him, whose Writings 
he hath not only corrected, as he has done this, but has had 
a greater inspection over them, and sometimes added 
whole Scenes together, which may as easily be distinguish' d 
from the rest, as true Gold from counterfeit by the weight. 
But besides the unworthiness of the action which deterred 
me from it {there being nothing so base as to rob the dead 
of his reputation) I am satisfi'd I could never have receiv'd 
so much honour in being thought the Author of any Poem 
how excellent soever, as I shall from the joining my 
Imperfections with the merit and name of Shakespear 
and Sir William D'avenant. 

Decemb. 1 John Dryden. 


Dramatis Personse. 

Alonzo Duke of Savoy, and Usurper of the Dukedom of Mantua. 
Ferdinand his Son. 
Prospero right Duke of Millain. 
Antonio his Brother, Usurper of the Dukedom. 
Gonzalo a Noble man of Savoy. 

Hippolito, one that never saw Woman, right Heir of the Duke- 
dom of Mantua. 
Stephana Master of the Ship. 
Mustacho his Mate. 
Trincalo Boatswain. 
Venfoso a Mariner. 
Several Mariners. 
A Cabbin-Boy. 


and HDaughters to Prospero) that never saw Man. 

Ariel an aiery Spirit, attendant on Prospero. 

Several Spirits Guards to Prospero. 


Sycorax his Sister] 

[Milcha, a Spirit.] 

hTwo Monsters of the Isle. 

Prologue to the Tempest^ or the 
Enchanted Island. 

/I S when a Tree's cut down the secret root 
yj- Lives under ground, and thence new Branches shoot , 
So, from old Shakespear's honour' d dust, this day 
Springs up and buds a new reviving Play. 
Shakespear, wh^o {taught by none) did first impart 
To Fletcher Wit, to labouring Johnson Art. 
He Monarch-like gave those his Subjects law. 
And is that Nature which they paint and draw. 
Fletcher reach'd that which on his heights did grow, 
Whilst Johnson crept and gather' d all below. 
This did his Love, and this his Mirth digest: 
One imitates him most, the other best. 
If they have since out-writ all other Men, 
'Tis with the drops which fell from Shakespear's Pen. 
The Storm which vanish'd on the Neighb'ring shore. 
Was taught by Shakespear's Tempest first to roar. 
That Innocence and Beauty which did smile 
In Fletcher, grew on this Enchanted Isle. 
But Shakespear's Magick could not copy'd be, 
Within that Circle none durst walk but he. 
I must confess 'twas bold, nor would you now. 
That liberty to vulgar Wits allow. 
Which works by Magick supernatural things : 
But Shakespear's Pow'r is sacred as a King's. 
Those Legends from old Priest-hood were receiv'd. 
And he then writ, as People then believ'd. 
But, if for Shakespear we your grace implore, 
We for our Theatre shall want it more : 
Who by our dearth of Yoiiths are forc'd t' employ 
One of our Women to present a Boy. 


The Enchanted Island 

And that's a transformation you will say 
Exceeding all the Magick in the Play. 
Let none expect in the last Act to find, 
Her Sex transform' d from Man to Woman-kind. 
What e'er she was before the Play began, 
All you shall see of her is perfect Man. 
Or if your fancy will be farther led. 
To find her Woman, it must be abed. 



Act I. 

Enter Mustacho and Ventoso. 
Vent. \ li THAT a Sea comes in ? 

VV Must. A hoaming Sea! we shall have 
foul weather. 

Enter Trincalo. 
Trine. The Scud comes against the Wind, 'twill blow 

Enter Stephano. 
Steph. Bosen! 

Trine. Here, Master what cheer ? 
Steph. Ill weather ! Let's off to Sea. 
Must. Let's have Sea-room enough, and then let it 
blow the Devils head off. 
Steph. Boy! 

Enter Cabin-Boy. 
Boy. Yaw, yaw, here Master. 
Steph. Give the Pilot a Dram of the Bottle. 

[Exeunt Stephano and Boy. 
Enter Mariners and pass over the Stage. 
Trine. Heigh, my hearts, chearly, chearly, my hearts, 
yare, yare. 

Enter Alonzo, Antonio, Gonzalo. 
Alon. Good Bosen have a care ; where's the Master ? 
Play the Men. 


lo The Tempest j or [Act i 

Trine. Pray keep below. 

Ant. Where's the Master, Bosen ? 

Trine. Do you not hear him ? You mar our labour : 
keep your Cabins, you help the storm. 

Gonz. Nay, good Friend be patient. 

Trine. I, when the Sea is : hence ; what care these 
roarers for the name of Duke? To Cabin; silence; 
trouble us not. 

Gonz. Good friend, remember whom thou hast 

Trine. None that I love more than my self. You are 
a Counsellour; if you can advise these Elements to 
silence ; use your wisdom : if you cannot, make your 
self ready in the Cabin for the ill hour. Cheerly good 
hearts ! Out of our way. Sirs. 

\Exeunt Trincalo and Mariners. 

Gonz. I have great comfort from this FeUow; me- 
thinks his complexion is perfect GaUows; stand fast, 
good Fate, to his Hanging; make the Rope of his 
Destiny our Cable, for our own does Uttle advantage us : 
if he be not born to be hang'd we shall be drown'd. 

Enter Trincalo and Stephano. 

Trine. Up aloft Lads. Come, reef both Top-sails. 

Steph. Let's weigh. Let's weigh, and off to Sea. 

[Exit Stephano. 
Enter two Mariners and pass over the Stage. 

Trine. Hands down! Man your Main-Capstorm. 
Enter Mustacho and Ventoso at the other door. 

Must. Up aloft! And Man your seere-Capstorm. 

Vent. My Lads, my hearts of Gold, get in your 

Hoa up, hoa up, &c. [Exeunt Mustacho and Ventoso. 
Enter Stephano. 

Steph. Hold on weU ! Hold on well ! Nip weU there ; 
Quarter-Master, get's more Nippers. [Exit Stephano. 

Act i] The Enchanted Island 1 1 

Enter two Mariners and pass over again. 

Trine. Turn out, turn out, all hands to Capstorm? 
You Dogs, is this a time to sleep ? 
Heave together Lads. [Trincalo whistles. 

[Exeunt Mustacho and Ventoso. 

Must, within. Our Viall's broke. 

Vent, within. 'Tis but our Vial-block has given way. 
Come heave Lads ! We are fix'd again. Heave together 
Bully es. 

Enter Stephano. 

Steph. Cut off the Hamocks! Cut off the Hamocks; 
come my Lads : Come Bullys, chear up ! Heave lustily. 
The Anchor's a peek. 

Trine. Is the Anchor a peek ? 

Steph. Is a weigh ! Is a weigh ! 

Trine. Up aloft my Lads upon the Fore-Castle! Cut 
the Anchor, cut him. 

All within. Haul Catt, Haul Catt, &c. Haul Catt, 
haul: haul, Catt, haul. Below. 

Steph. Aft, Aft! And loose the Misen! 

Trine. Get the Misen-tack aboard. Haul Aft Misen- 
sheat ! 

Enter Mustacho. 

Must. Loose the main Top sail ! 

Steph. Furle him again, there's too much Wind. 

Trine. Loose foresail ! Haul Aft both sheats ! 
Trim her right afore the Wind. 
Aft ! Aft ! Lads, and hale up the Misen here 

Miist. A Mackrel-Gale, Master. 

Steph. within. Port hard, port! The Wind grows 
scant, bring the Tack aboard, Port is. Star-board, star- 
board, a little steady; now steady, keep her thus, no 
neerer you cannot come. 

Enter Ventoso. 

Vent. Some hands down : the Guns are loose. 

[Exit Must. 

12 The Tempest ; or [Act i 

Trine. Try the Pump, try the Pump ! 

\Exit Ventoso. 
Enter Mustacho at the other door. 

Must. O Master! Six foot Water in Hold. 

Steph. Clap the Helm hard aboard! Flat, flat, flat 
in the Fore-sheat there. 

Trine. Over-haul your fore-boling. 

Steph. Brace in the Lar-board. [Exit. 

Trine. A Curse upon this howling, 

[A great ery within. 
They are louder than the weather. 

[Enter Antonio and Gonzalo. 
Yet again, what do you here! Shall we give o're, and 
drown ? Ha' you a mind to sink ? 

Gonz. A pox o' your throat, you bawling, blasphe- 
mous, uncharitable Dog. 

Trine. Work you then. 

Ant. Hang, Cur, hang, you whorson insolent Noise- 
maker, we are less afraid to be drown' d than thou art. 

Trine. Brace ofE the Fore-yard. [Exit. 

Gonz. I'll warrant him for drowning, though the Ship 
were no stronger than a Nut-shell, and as leaky as an 
unstanch'd Wench. 

Enter Alonzo and Ferdinand. 

Ferd. For my self I care not, but your loss brings a 
thousand Deaths to me. 

Alonzo. O name not me, I am grown old, my Son; 
I now am tedious to the World, and that, by tise, is so 
to me: but, Ferdinand, I grieve my subjects loss in 
thee: Alas! I suffer justly for my Crimes; but why 

thou shouldest O Heaven ! Hark, f arewel my Son ! 

a long f arewel ! [A cry within. 

Ferd. Some lucky Plank, when we are lost by Ship- 
wrack, waft hither, and submit it self beneath you. 
Your Blessing, and I dye contented. 

[Embrace and Exeunt. 

Act i] The Enchanted Island 1 3 

Enter Trincalo, Mustacho, and Ventoso. 

Trine. What must our Mouths be cold then ? 

Vent. All's lost. To Prayers, to Prayers. 

Gonz. The Duke and Prince are gone within to 
Prayers. Let's assist them. 

Must. Nay, we may e'ne pray too ; our case is now 

Ant. We are meerly cheated of our lives by Drunkards. 
This wide chopt Rascal: would thou might'st lye 

The long washing of ten Tides. 

[Exeunt Trincalo, Mustacho, and Ventoso. 

Gonz. He'll be hang'd yet, though every drop of 
Water swears against it ; now would I give ten thousand 
Furlongs of Sea for one Acre of barren ground. Long- 
heath, Broom-furs, or any thing. The Wills above be 
done, but I would fain dye a dry death. 

[A confused noise within. 

Ant. Mercy upon us! we split, we split. 

Gonz. Let's all sink with the Duke, and the young 
Prince. [Exeimt. 

Enter Stephano, Trincalo. 

Trine. The Ship is sinking. [A new cry within. 

Steph. Run her ashore ! 

Trine. Luffe ! luffe ! or we are all lost ! there's a Rock 
upon the Star-board Bow. 

Steph. She strikes, she strikes! All shift for them- 
selves. [Exeunt. 

Enter Prospero and Miranda. 

Prosp. Miranda 1 where's your Sister ? 

Mir. I left her looking from the pointed Rock, at 
the Walks end, on the huge beat of Waters. 

Prosp. It is a dreadful object. 

Mir. If by your Art, my dearest Father, you have 
put them in this roar, allay 'em quickly. Had I been 

14 The Tempest I or [Act i 

any God of Power, I would have sunk the Sea into the 
Earth, before it should the Vessel so have swallowed. 

Prosp. Collect your self, and tell your piteous heart, 
There's no harm done. 
Mir. O woe the day! 

Prosp. There is no harm : 
I have done nothing but in care of thee. 
My Daughter, and thy pretty Sister : 
You both are ignorant of what you are. 
Not knowing whence I am, nor that I'm more 
Than Prospero, Master of a narrow Cell, 
And thy unhappy Father. 

Mir. I ne're indeavour'd to know ifiore than you 
were pleas'd to tell me. 

Prosp. I should inform thee farther : wipe thou thine 
Eyes, have comfort ; the direful Spectacle of the Wrack, 
which touch'd the very virtue of compassion in thee, 
I have with such a pity safely order'd, that not one 
Creature in the Ship is lost. 

Mir. You often. Sir, began to tell me what I am, but 
then you stopt. 

Prosp. The hour's now come ; 
Obey, and be attentive. Canst thou remember a time 
before we came into this Cell? I do not think thou 
canst ; for then thou wert not full three years old. 

Mir. Certainly I can. Sir. 

Prosp. Tell me the Image then of any thing which 
thou dost keep in thy remembrance still. 

Mir. Sir, had I not four or five Women once that 
tended me ? 

Prosp. Thou hadst, and more, Miranda : what see'st 
thou else in the dark back-ward, and abyss of Time ? 
If thou remembrest ought e're thou cam'st here, then, 
how thou cam'st thou may'st remember too. 

Mir. Sir, that I do not. 

Act i] The Enchanted Island 15 

Frosp. Fifteen Years since, Miranda, thy Father was 
the Duke of Millan, and a Prince of Power. 

Mir. Sir, are not you my Father ? 

Prosp. Thy Mother was all Virtue, and she said, 
thou wast my Daughter, and thy Sister too. 

Mir. O Heavens! what foul play had we, that we 
hither came ? or was't a Blessing that we did ? 

Prosp. Both, both, my Girl. 

Mir. How my heart bleeds to think what you have 
suffer'd. But, Sir, I pray proceed. 

Prosp. My Brother, and thy Uncle, call'd Antonio,. 
To whom I trusted then the manage of 
My State, while I was wrap'd with secret Studies : 
That false Uncle (do'st thou attend me Child?) 

Mir. Sir, most heedfully. 

Prosp. Having attain'd the craft of granting Suits,^ 
and of denying them ; whom to advance, or lop, for 
over-toping, soon was grown the Iv}^ which did hide 
my Princely Trunck, and suckt my verdure out : thou 
attend'st not. 

Mir. O good Sir, I do. 

Prosp. I thus neglecting worldly ends, and bent 
To closeness, and the bettering of my Mind, 
Wak'd in my false Brother an evil Nature : 
He did believe 

He was indeed the Duke, because he then 
Did execute the outward face of Soveraignty. 
Do'st thou still mark me ? 

Mir. Your story would Cure Deafness. 

Prosp. To have no screen between the part he plaid;. 
And whom he plaid it for ; he needs would be 
Absolute Millan, and confederates 
(So dry he was for Sway) with Savoy's Duke, 
To give him Tribute, and to do him homage. 

Mir. False Man ! 

1 6 The Tempest i or [Act i 

Prosp. This Duke of Savoy being an Enemy, 
To me inveterate, strait grants my Brother's Suit, 
And on a night Mated to his design, Antonio opened the 
Gates of MUlan, and i' th' dead of darkness, hurri'd me 
thence with thy young Sister, and thy crying self. 

Miy. But wherefore did they not that hour destroy us ? 

Prosp. They durst not, Girl, in Millan, for the love 
-my People bore me. In short, they hurri'd us away to 
Savoy, and thence aboard a Bark at Nissa's Port : bore 
us some Leagues to Sea, where they prepar'd a rotten 
Carkass of a Boat, not rigg'd, no Tackle, Sail, nor Mast ; 
the very Rats instinctively had quit it: they hoisted 
us, to cry to Seas which roar'd to us ; to sigh to Winds, 
whose pity sighing back again, did seem to do us loving 

Mir. Alack ! what trouble was I then to you ? 

Prosp. Thou and thy Sister were two Cherubins, 
which did preserve me : you both did smile, infus'd with 
Fortitude from Heaven. 

Mir. How came we ashore ? 

Prosp. By Providence Divine, 
Some food we had, and some fresh Water, which a 
Noble man of Savoy, called Gonzalo, appointed Master 
of that black design, gave us ; with rich Garments, and 
all necessaries, which since have steaded much: and 
of his gentleness (knowing I lov'd my Books) he furnisht 
me from mine own Library, with Volumes which I prize 
above my Dukedom. 

Mir. Would I might see that man. 

Prosp. Here in this Island we arriv'd, and here have 
I your Tutor been. But by my skill I find that my Mid- 
Heaven doth depend on a most happy Star, whose 
influence if I now court not, but omit, my Fortunes 
will ever after droop. Here cease more question, thou 
art inclin'd to sleep : 'tis a good dulness, and give it 
way ; I know thou canst not chuse. [She falls asleep. 

Act i] The Enchanted Island ij 

Come away my Spirit : I am ready now, approach my 
Ariel, Come. 

Enter Ariel. 

Ariel. All hail great Master, grave Sir, hail I 
To answer thy best pleasure, be it to fly. 
To swim, to shoot into the fire, to ride 
On the curl'd Clouds; to thy strong bidding, task 
Ariel and all his qualities. 

Prosp. Hast thou. Spirit, 
Perform'd to point the Tempest that I bad thee? 

Ariel. To every Article. 
I boarded the Duke's Ship, now on the Beak, 
Now in the Waste, the Deck, in every Cabin, 
I flam'd amazement ; and sometimes I seem'd 
To burn in many places on the Top-Mast, 
The Yards and Bore-sprit ; I did flame distinctly. 

Prosp. My brave Spirit! 
Who was so firm, so constant, that this coil 
Did not infect his Reason ? 

Ariel. Not a Soul 
But felt a Feaver of the Mind, and play'd 
Some tricks of desperation ; all, but Mariners, 
Plung'd in the foaming brine, and quit the Vessel : 
The Duke's Son, Ferdinand, 

With hair upstairing (more like Reeds than Hair) 
Was the first Man that leap'd; cry'd. Hell is empty. 
And all the Devils are here. 

Prosp. Why that's my Spirit ; 
But was not this nigh Shore ? 

Ariel. Close by, my Master. 

Prosp. But, Ariel, are they safe ? 

Ariel. Not a hair perisht. 
In Troops I have dispers'd them round this Isle. 
The Duke's Son I have landed by himself. 
Whom I have left warming the air with sighs, 


1 8 The Tempest y or [Act i 

In an odde angle of the Isle, and sitting, 
His Arms he folded in this sad knot. 

Prosp. Say how thou hast dispos'd the Mariners 
Of the Duke's Ship, and all the rest of the Fleet. 

Ariel. Safely in Harbour 
Is the Duke's Ship, in the deep Nook, where once 
Thou caU'dst me up at Midnight to fetch Dew 
From the stiU vext Bermoothes, there she's hid, 
The Mariners all under Hatches stow'd. 
Whom, with a charm, join'd to their suffer'd labour, 
I have left asleep ; and for the rest o' th' Fleet 
(Which I disperst) they all have met again. 
And are upon the Mediterranean Float, 
Bound sadly home for Italy ; 
Supposing that they saw the Duke's Ship wrackt. 
And his great Person perish. 

Prosp. Ariel, thy charge 
Exactly is perform'd; but there's more work : 
What is the time o' th' day ? 

Ariel. Past the Mid-season. 

Prosp. At least two Glasses : the time 'tween six and 
Must by us both be spent most preciously. 

Ariel. Is there more toyl? since thou dost give me 
Let me remember thee what thou hast promis'd. 
Which is not yet perform'd me. 

Prosp. How now, Moodie ? 
What is't thou canst demand ? 

Ariel. My liberty. 

Prosp. Before the time be out ? no more. 

Ariel. I prethee! 
Remember I have done thee faithful service, 
Told thee no lyes, have made thee no mistakings, 
Serv'd without grudge, or grumblings: Thou didst 

Act i] The Enchanted Island 19 

To bate me a full year. 

Prosp. Dost thou forget 
From what a torment I did free thee ? 
Ariel. No. 

Prosp. Thou dost ; and think'st it much to tread the 
Of the salt deep : 

To run against the sharp wind of the North, 
To do my business in the Veins of the Earth, 
When it is bak'd with Frost. 
Ariel. I do not. Sir. 

Prosp. Thou ly'st, maUgnant thing! hast thou forgot 
The foul Witch Sycorax, who with Age and Envy 
Was grown into a Hoop ? hast thou forgot her ? 
Ariel. No, Sir! 

Prosp. Thou hast ; where was she born ? speak, tell 

Ariel. Sir, in Argier. 
Prosp. Oh, was she so ! I must 
Once every Month recount what thou hast been. 
Which thou forgettest. This damn'd Witch Sycorax 
For mischiefs manifold, and Sorceries too terrible 
To enter humane hearing, from Argier 
Thou know'st was banisht : but for one thing she did. 
They would not take her life : is not this true ? 
Ariel. I, Sir. 

Prosp. This blew ey'd Hag was hither brought with 
And here was left by th' Saylors ; thou, my Slave, 
As thou report'st thy self, wast then her Servant ; 
And 'cause thou wast a Spirit too delicate 
To act her Earthy and abhorr'd Commands, 
Refusing her grand Hests, she did confine thee, 
By help of her more potent Ministers, 
(In her unmitigable rage) into a cloven Pine 
Within whose rift imprison'd, thou didst painfully 

20 The Tempest ; or [Act i 

Remain a dozen Years; within which space she dy'd. 

And left thee there ; where thou didst vent thy groans, 

As fast as Mill-Wheels strike. Then was this Isle, 

(Save for two Brats, which she did litter here, 

The brutish Caliban, and his twin Sister, 

Two freckel'd-hag-born Whelps) not honour' d with 

A humane shape. 

Ariel. Yes! Caliban her Son, and Sycorax his Sister. 

Prosp. DuU thing, I say so ; he, that Caliban, 
And she that Sycorax, whom I now keep in service. 
Thou best knowst 

What torment I did find thee in ; thy groans 
Did make Wolves howl, and penetrate the Breasts 
Of ever angry Bears : it was a torment 
To lay upon the damn'd, which Sycorax 
Could ne're again undo : It was my Art, 
When I arriv'd, and heard thee, made the Pine 
To gape and let thee out. 

Ariel. I thank thee, Master. 

Prosp. If thou more murmurest, I will rend an Oak, 
And peg thee in his knotty Entrails, 
Till thou hast howld away twelve Winters more. 

Ariel. Pardon, Master, 
I wiU be correspondent to command. 
And be a gentle Spirit. 

Prosp. Do so, and after two days He discharge thee. 

Ariel. That's my noble Master. 
What shall I do ? say! what, what shall I do ? 

Prosp. Be subject to no sight but mine; 
Invisible to every Eye-BaU else : hence with diligence. 
My Daughter wakes. Anon thou shalt know more. 

[Exit Ariel. 
Thou hast slept well my Child. 

Mir. The sadness of your story put heaviness in me. 

Prosp. Shake it off; come on. Tie now call Caliban, 
my slave, who never yields us a kind Answer. 

Act i] The Enchanted Island 21 

Mir. 'Tis a Creature, Sir, I do not love to look on. 

Prosp. But as'tis, we cannot miss him ; he does make 
our Fire, fetch in our wood, and serve in Offices that 
profit us: What hoa! Slave! Caliban! thou Earth 
thou, speak. 

Calih. within. There's Wood enough within. 

Pros'p. Come forth, I say, there's other business forthee. 
Come thou Tortoise, when ? {Enter Ariel. 

Fine Apparition, my quaint Ariel, 
Hark in thy Ear. 

Ariel. My Lord it shall be done. [Exit. 

Prosp. Thou poisonous Slave, got by the Devil him- 
self upon thy wicked Dam, come forth. 

Enter Caliban. 

Calib. As wicked Dew, as e're my Mother brush'd 
with Raven's Feather from unwholsome Fens, drop on 
you both : A South-west blow on you, and blister you 
all o're. 

Prosp. For this be sure, to night thou shalt have 
Cramps, Side-stitches, that shall pen thy breath up; 
Urchins shall prick thee till thou bleed'st : thou shalt 
be pinch'd as thick as Honey-Combs, each pinch more 
stinging than the Bees which made 'em. 

Calib. I must eat my Dinner : this Island's mine by 
Sycorax my Mother, which thou took'st from me. When 
thou cam'st first, thou stroak'st me and mad'st much 
of me, would'st give me Water with Berries in't, and 
teach me how to name the bigger Light, and how the 
less, that burn by day and night ; and then I lov'd thee, 
and shew'd thee all the qualities of the Isle, the fresh- 
Springs, brine-Pits, barren places, and fertil. Curs'd be 
I, that I did so: All the Charms of Sycorax, Toads, 
Beetles, Batts light on thee, for I am all the Subjects 
that thou hast. I first was mine own Lord : and here 
thou stay'st me in this hard Rock, whiles thou dost keep 
me from the rest o'th' Island. 

22 The Tempest -J or [Act i 

Prosp. Thou most lying Slave, whom stripes may 
move, not kindness: I have us'd thee (filth that thou 
art) with humane care, and lodg'd thee in mine own Cell ; 
till thou didst seek to violate the honour of my Children. 

Calih. Oh ho. Oh ho, would t' had been done : thou 
did'st prevent me, I had peopl'd else this Isle with 

Prosp. Abhor' d Slave ! 
Who ne're would any print of goodness take, being 
capable of all ill : I pity'd thee, took pains to make thee 
speak, taught thee each hour one thing or other ; when 
thou didst not, (Savage), know thy own meaning, but 
would'st gabble, like a thing most brutish, I endow'd 
thy purposes with words which made them known : 
But thy wild race (though thou did'st learn) had that 
in't, which good Natures could not abide to be with : 
therefore wast thou deservedly pent up into this Rock. 

Calib. You taught me Languague, and my profit by it 
is, that I know to Curse : the red Botch rid you for 
learning me your languague. 

Prosp. Hag-seed hence : 
Fetch us in fewel, and be quick 
To answer other business : shrugst thou, Malice ? 
If thou neglectest or dost unwillingly what I Command, 
I'le rack thee with old Cramps, fill all thy Bones with 
Aches, make thee roar, that Beasts shaU tremble 
At thy Din. 

Calib. No prethee. 
I must obey. His Art is of such power, 
It would controul my Dam's God, Setebos, 
And make a Vassal of him. 

Prosp. So Slave, hence. 

[Exeunt Prospero and Caliban severally. 
Enter Dorinda. 

Dor. Oh Sister ! what have I beheld ! 

Mir. What is it moves you so ? 

Act i] The Enchanted Island 23 

Dor. From yonder Rock, 
As I my Eyes cast down upon the Seas, 
The whisthng Winds blew rudely on my face. 
And the Waves roar'd ; at first I thought the War 
Had bin between themselves ; but straight I spy'd 
A huge great Creature. 

Mir. O, you mean the Ship. 

Dor. Is't not a Creature then ? it seem'd aUve. 

Mir. But what of it ? 

Dor. This floating Ram did bear his Horns above ; 
All ty'd with Ribbands, ruffling in the wind. 
Sometimes he nodded down his head a while. 
And then the waves did heave him to the Moon, 
He clamb'ring to the top of all the Billows, 
And then again he curtsy'd down so low, 
I could not see him : till at last, all side long 
With a great crack his BeUy burst in pieces. 

Mir. There aU had perisht 
Had not my Father's Magick Art reliev'd them. 
But, Sister, I have stranger News to teU you ; 
In this great Creature there were other Creatures, 
And shortly we may chance to see that thing, 
Which you have heard my Father call, a Man. 

Dor. But what is that ? for yet he never told me. 

Mir. I know no more than you: but I have heard 
My Father say we Women were made for him. 

Dor. What, that he should eat us, Sister ? 

Mir. No sure, you see my Father is a Man, and yet 
He does us good. I would he were not old. 

Dor. Methinks indeed it would be finer, if we two 
Had two young Fathers. 

Mir. No Sister, no, if they were young, my Father 
Said that we must caU them Brothers. 

Dor. But pray how does it come that we two are not 
Brothers then, and have not beards like him ? 

Mir. Now I confess you pose me. 

24 The Tempest j or [Act ii 

Dor. How did he come to be our Father too ? 

Miv I think he found us when we both were httle, 
and gi'^^huri-h^n the ground. 

Dov. V • 1^ could he not find more of us ? Pray Sister 
let you and I look up and down one day, to find some 
little ones for us to play with. 

Mir. Agreed ; but now we must go in. This is the 
Wherein my Father's Charm will work, 
Which seizes all who are in open Air : 
Th' effect of his great Art I long to see, 
Which will perform as much as Magick can. 

Dor. And I' methinks, more long to see a Man. 



in't, Act II. 

there Enter Alonzo, Antonio, Gonzalo, Attendants. 

. .z. "DESEECH your Grace be merry; you have 

^' ^' J3 cause, so have we all, of joy for our strange 

sclipe : then wisely, good Sir, weigh our sorrow with our 


Alonz. Prithee peace ! you cram these words into my 
ears against my Stomack, how can I rejoyce, when my 
dear Son perhaps this very moment, is made a meal to 
some strange Fish ? 

Ant. Sir, he may live, 
I saw him beat the Billows under him, and "ide upon 
their backs ; he trod the Water, whose enmity he flung 
aside, and breasted the most swoln surge that met him, 
his bold Head 'bove the contentious waves he kept, and 
oar'd himself with his strong Armes to shore : I do not 
doubt he came alive to land. 

Alonz. No, no, he's gone, and you and I, Antonio, 
were those who caus'd his Death. 

Ant. How could we help it ? 

Act ii] The Enchanted Island 25 

Alonz. Then, then, we should have helpt it, when 
thou betrayedst thy Brother Prospero, and Mr tua's 
Infant Sovereign to my Power: And w'. ' " too 
ambitious, took by force anothers right ; thv we 

Ferdinand, then forfeited our Navy to this Tt.j. 

Ant. Indeed we first broke truce with Heav ' .' 
You to the waves an Infant Prince expos'd. 
And on the waves have lost an only Son ; 
I did usurp my Brother's fertile lands, and now 
Am cast upon this desert Isle. 

Gonz. These, Sir, 'tis true were Crimes of a black Dye, 
But both of you have made amends to Heav'n, 
By your late Voyage into Portugal, 
Where in defense of Christianity, 
Your valour has repuls'd the Moors of Spain. 

Alonz. name it not, Gonzalo. 
No act but penitence can expiate guilt. 
Must we teach Heaven what price to set on Murtheio . 
What rate on lawless Power, and wild ambition ? 
Or dare we traffick with the Powers above. 
And sell by weight a good deed for a bad ? 

[Musick within. 

Gonz. Musick! and in the air! sure we are ship- 
wrackt on the Dominions of some merry Devil. 

Ant. This Isle's inchanted ground, for I have heard 
Swift Voices flying by my Ear, and groans 
Of lamenting Ghosts. 

Alonz. I puU'd a Tree, and Blood pursu'd my hand; 
O Heaven ! deliver me from this dire place, and aU the 
after actions of my Life shall mark my Penitence and 
my Bounty. Heark ! 
The sounds approach us. 

[A Dialogue within sung in parts. 

1. D. Where does proud Ambition dwell? 

2. In the lowest Rooms of HeU. 

I. Of the damn'd who leads the Host ? 

26 The Tempest ; or [Act ii 

2. He who did oppress the most. 

1. Who such Troops of damned brings? 

2. §1 'Vhi^'re led by fighting Kings. 

^Y. V • s who did Crowns unjustly get, 
Tou ac on burning Thrones are set. 
C/iipnpKings who did Crowns, &c. 
Ant. Do you hear. Sir, how they lay our Crimes 
before us ? 

Gonz. Do evil Spirits imitate the good, 
In shewing Men their Sins ? 

Alonz. But in a different way, 
Those warn from doing, these upbraid 'em done. 

1. Who are the Pillars of Ambitions Court ? 

2. Grim Deaths and Scarlet Murthers it support. 
I. What lyes beneath her Feet ? 

^.^•{2. Her footsteps tread, 

then ^^ Orphans tender Breasts, and Brothers dead. 

1. Can Heaven permit such Crimes should be 
Rewarded with felicity ? 

2. Oh no! uneasily their Crowns they wear, 

And their own guilt amidst their Guards they fear. 
Cares when they wake their minds unquiet keep. 
And we in visions lord it o're their sleep. 
Chor. Oh no ! uneasily their Crowns, &c. 
Alonz. See where they come in horrid shapes! 
Enter the two that sung, in shape of Devils, placing them- 
selves at two Corners of the Stage. 
Ant. Sure Hell is open to devour us quick. 

1. D. Say Brother, shall we bear these Mortals 
hence ? 

2. First let us shew the shapes of their offence. 

I. We'll Muster then their Crimes on either side: 
Appear! Appear! Their first begotten. Pride. 

Enter Pride. 

Pride. Lo ! I am here, who led their hearts astray, 
And to Ambition did their Minds betray. 

Act ii] The Enchanted Island 27 

Enter Fraud. 
Fraud. And guileful Fraud does next appear, 
Their wandring steps who led, 
When they from Virtue fled. 
And in my crooked paths their course did steer. 

Enter Rapine. 
Rap. From Fraud to Force they soon arrive. 
Where Rapine did their actions drive. 

Enter Murther. 
Mur. There long they cannot stay, 
Down the deep precipice they run, 
And to secure what they have done. 
To murder bend their way. 

[After which they fall into a round encompassing 
the Duke, &c., Singing. 

Around, around, we pace 

About this cursed place, 

Whilst thus we compass in 

These mortals and their sin. Dance. 

[All the Spirits vanish. 

Ant. Heav'n has heard me! They are vanish'd. 

Alonz. But they have left me all unman'd. 
I feel my sinews slacken'd with the fright, 
And a cold sweat triUs down o're aU my Limbs, 
As if I were dissolving into Water. 

O Prospero ! My Crimes 'gainst thee sit heavy on my 

Ant. And mine, 'gainst him and young Hippolito. 

Gonz. Heav'n have mercy on the penitent! 

Alonz. Lead from this cursed ground ; 
The Seas, in all their rage, are not so dreadful. 
This is the Region of despair and death. 

Gonz. Shall we not seek some food ? 

Alonz. Beware all fruit but what the birds have peid. 
The shadows of the Trees are poisonous too : 

28 The Tempest ; or [Act ii 

A secret venom slides from every branch. 
My conscience doth distract me, O my Son! 
Why do I speak of eating or repose, 
Before I know thy fortune ? \Exeunt. 

Enter Ferdinand, and Ariel, invisible, playing and 


Ariel's Song. 
Come unto these yellow sands 

And then take hands. 
Curtsy' d when you have and kiss'd, 
The wild waves whist. 
Foot it featly here and there, and sweet sprights bear the 

Burthen. [Burthen dispersedly. 
Hark I Hark ! Bow-waugh ; the Watch-dogs hark, 

Ariel. Hark! Hark! I hear the strain of strutting Chanti- 
cleer Cry Cock a doodle do. 

Ferd. Where should this Musick be? I' th' Air, or 

th' Earth? 
It sounds no more, and sure it waits upon some God 
O' th' Island, sitting on a bank, weeping against the 

My Father's Wrack. This Musick hover'd o're me 
On the Waters allaying both their fury and my passion 
With charming Airs ; thence I have foUow'd it, (or it 
Hath drawn me rather) but 'tis gone ; 
No, it begins again. 

Ariel. Song. 
Full Fathoms five thy Father lyes, 

Of his Bones is Coral made : 
Those are Pearls that were his eyes, 

Nothing of him that does fade : 

But does suffer a Sea-change 

Into something rich and strange : 

Act ii] The Enchanted Island 29 

Sea-Nymphs hourly ring his Knell : 
Hark now I hear 'em, Ding dong Bell. 

[Burthen, Ding dong. 

Ferd. The mournful Ditty mentions my drown'd 
This is no mortal business, nor a sound 
Which the Earth owns : I hear it now before me. 
However I will on and foUow it. 

[Exeunt Ferdinand and Ariel. 
Enter Stephano, Mustacho, Ventoso. 

Vent. The Runlet of Brandy was a loving Runlet, and 
floated after us out of pure pity. 

Must. This kind Bottle, like an old acquaintance, 
swam after it. And this Scollop-shell is aU our Plate 

Vent. 'Tis well we have found something since we 
landed. I prethee fill a Soop, and let it go round. Where 
hast thou laid the Runlet ? 

Must. V th' hollow of an old Tree. 

Vent. Fill apace, we cannot live long in this barren 
Island, and we may take a soop before Death, as well as 
others drink at our Funerals. 

Must. This is Prize-Brandy, we steal Custom, and it 
costs nothing. Let's have two rounds more. 

Vent. Master, what have you sav'd ? 

Steph. Just nothing but my self. 

Vent. This works comfortably on a cold Stomach. 

Steph. FiU's another round. 

Vent. Look! Mustacho weeps. Hang losses as long 
as we have Brandy left. Prithee leave weeping. 

Steph. He sheds his Brandy out of his Eyes : he shall 
drink no more. 

Must. This wUl be a doleful day with old Bess. She 
gave me a gilt Nutmeg at parting. That's lost too. But 
as you say, hang losses. Prithee fill agen. 

Vent. Beshrew thy heart for putting me in mind of 

30 The Tempest y or [Act ii 

thy Wife ; I had not thought of mine else. Nature will 
shew it self, I must melt. I prithee fiU agen, my Wife's 
a good old Jade, and has but one eye left : but she'U 
weep out that too, when she hears that I am dead. 

Steph. Would you were both hang'd for putting me 
in thought of mine. But well, if I return not in seven 
Years to my own Country, she may marry agen : and 
'tis from this Island thither at least seven Years swim- 

Must. O at least, having no help of Boat nor Bladders. 

Steph. Whoe're she marries, poor Soul, she'll weep a 
nights when she thinks of Stephana. 

Vent. But Master, sorrow is dry ! here's for you agen. 

Steph. A Mariner had e'en as good be a Fish as a Man, 
but for the comfort we get ashore : O for any old dry 
Wench now I am wet. 

Must. Poor heart! That would soon make you dry 
agen : but all is barren in this Isle : here we may lye at 
HuU till the Wind blow Nore and by South, e're we 
can cry a Sail, a Sail, at sight of a white Apron. And 
therefore here's another soop to comfort us. 

Vent. This Isle's our own, that's our comfort; for 
the Duke, the Prince, and all their train are perished. 

Must. Our Ship is sunk, and we can never get home 
agen : we must e'en turn Salvages, and the next that 
catches his Fellow may eat him. 

Vent. No, no, let us have a Government ; for if we 
Uve well and orderly, Heav'n wiU drive the Shipwracks 
ashore to make us all rich ; therefore let us carry good 
Consciences, and not eat one another. 

Steph. Whoever eats any of my Subjects, Tie break 
out his Teeth with my Scepter : for I was Master at Sea, 
and wiU be Duke on Land. You Mustacho. have been 
my Mate, and shall be my Vice-Roy. 

Vent. When you are Duke you may chuse your Vice- 
Roy ; but I am a free Subject in a new Plantation, and 

Act ii] The Enchanted Island 3 1 

will have no Duke without my Voice. And so fill me 
the other soop. 

Steph. whispering.] Ventoso, dost thou hear, I wiU 
advance thee, prithee give me thy voice. 

Vent. I'le have no whisperings to corrupt the Election ; 
and to show that I have no private ends, I declare 
aloud, that I will be Vice-Roy ; or I'le keep my Voice 
for my self. 

Must. Stephana, hear me, I wiU speak for the People, 
because they are few, or rather none in the Isle to speak 
for themselves. Know then, that to prevent the farther 
shedding of Christian Blood, we are all content Ventoso 
shall be Vice-Roy, upon condition I may be Vice-Roy 
over him. Speak good People, are you agreed ? What, no 
manAnswer? Well, you may take their silence for consent. 

Vent. You speak for the People, Mustacho ? I'le 
speak for 'em, and declare generally with one voice, one 
word and all, that there shall be no Vice-Roy but the 
Duke, unless I be he. 

Must. You declare for the people, who never saw 
your Face ! Cold Iron shall decide it. [Both draw. 

Steph. Hold, loving Subjects: we will have no^'^^Yil 
War during our Reign : I do hereby appoint you L-j,i}\ 
to be my Vice-Roys over the ^^<^y^ Island. 

Both. Agreed! Agreed! ckcw 

Enter Trincalo, with a great 1^ -pg^p?^/ drunk. 

Vent. How ! Trincalo our brav,^ or W^^ ' 

Must. He reels : can he be dru, , th Sea- water ? 

Trine. Sings. I shall no more tC ' ^ev^'-' ^^^' 
Here I shall dye a.- oie. 
This is a very scurvy Tune to sing at a Man's Funeral ; 
But here's my Comfort. [Drinks. 

Sings. The Master, the Swabber, the Gunner, and I, 
The Surgeon, and his Mate, 
Lov'd Mall, Meg, and Marrian, and Margery. 
But none of us car'd for Kate. 

32 The Tempest ; or []Act ii 

For she had a tongue with a tang, 
Wou'd cry to a Saylor, go hang : 
She lov'd not the savour of Tar nor of Pitch, 
Yet a Taylor might scratch her where e'er she 
did itch. 
This is a scurvy Tune too, but here's my comfort agen. 


Steph. We have got another Subject now; welcome, 
welcome into our Dominions ! 

Trine. What Subject, or what Dominions? Here's 
old Sack boys: the King of good Fellows can be no 
subject. I will be Old Simon the King. 

Must. Hah, old Boy ! How didst thou scape ? 

Trine. Upon a Butt of Sack, Boys, which the Saylors 
threw overboard. But are you alive, hoa! for I will 
tipple with no Ghosts till I'm dead. Thy hand Mustacho, 
and thine Ventoso ; the storm has done its worst : 
Stephano alive too ! Give thy Bosen thy hand, Master. 

Vent. y<)U must kiss it then, for I must tell you, we 
have chost ' im Duke in a full Assembly. 

Tnwc. A., ke! Where? What's he Duke of ? 
.yeust. Of iiuc Island, Man. Oh Trincalo we are aU 
^^le j.e, the Island's empty ; all's our own. Boy ; and we 
will speak to his G ^ ^■;e for thee, that thou may'st be as 
great as we are. - en 

Trine. Yoyilpw ma What the Devil are you ? 

Vent. We two let u/'ice-Roys over all the Island; and 
when we are v ierly, { Governing thou shalt succeed us. 

Trine. Do ns aUir, Ventoso, I wiU succeed you in 
both your plaC ' "^Otiore you enter into 'em. 

Steph. Trincalo, sleep and be sober; and make no 
more uproars in my Country. 

Trine. Why, what are you. Sir, what are you? 

Steph. What I am, I am by free Election, and you 
Trincalo are not your self ; but we pardon your first fault, 
Because it is the first day of our Reign. 

Act ii] The Enchanted Island 33 

Trine. Umph, were matters carried so swimmingly 
against me while I was swimming, and saving my self 
for the good of the people of this Island. 

Must. Art thou mad, Trincalo, wilt thou disturb a 
settled Government ? 

Trine. I say this Island shall be under Trincalo, or it 
shall be a Common-wealth; and so my Bottle is my 
Buckler, and so I draw my Sword. [Draws. 

Vent. Ah Trinealo, I thought thou hadst had more 
Than to rebeU against thy old Master, 
And thy two lawfuU Vice-Roys. 

Must. Wilt not thou take advice of two that stand 
For old Counsellors here, where thou art a meer stranger 
To the Laws of the Country. 

Trine. I'll have no Laws. 

Vent. Then Civil- War begins 

[Ventoso, Mustacho drai"'. 

Steph. Hold, hold. He have no blood-sh'^ ' 

My subjects are but few: let him make ra too. If she 

By himself; and a Rebel, I Duke S-'.er, Drink agen 

him : od word for me. 

Vice-Roys, come away. jes him the Bottle. 

Trine. And Duke Trinealo declarf el, farewel. 
open War wherever he meets thee,tce for Fish, 
[Exeunt Stephanc requiring, 
Enter Caliban with wood u or wash Dish. 

Trine. Hah ! Who have we here . 

Calih. All the infections that th a new Man. 
Fogs, Fens, Flats, on Prosper fall; l.d make him by 
inch-meal a Disease: his Spirits hear me, and yet I 
needs must curse ; but they'l not pinch, fright me with 
Urchin shows, pitch me i' th' mire, nor lead me in the 
dark out of my way, unless he bid 'em : but for every 
trifle he sets them on me ; sometimes like Baboons they 
mow and chatter at me, and often bite me ; like Hedge- 


34 The Tempest ; or [Act ii 

hogs then they mount their prickles at me, tumbHng 
before me in my barefoot way. Sometimes I am all 
wound about with Adders, who with their cloven 
tongues hiss me to madness. Hah ! Yonder stands one 
of his spirits sent to torment me. 

Trine. What have we here, a Man, or a Fish ? This is 
some Monster of the Isle. Were I in England, as once 
I was, and had him painted ; not a Holy day Fool there 
but would give me Six-pence for the sight of him : well, 
if I could make him tame, he were a present for an 
Emperour. Come hither prettj'^ Monster, I'le do thee no 
harm. Come hither ! 

Calib. Torment me not ; 
I'le bring the Wood home faster. 

Trine. He talks none of the wisest : but Tie give him 
a dram o' th' Bottle, that wiU clear his understanding. 
Come on your ways Master Monster, open your Mouth. 
How now, you perverse Moon-calf ! What, I think you 

Veno: .-^j ^-^q is your friend! Open your chops, I say. 
hg-ve chost ^- [Pours Wine down his throat. 

Tnnc. A . ,^ is g, brave God, and bears Ccelestial 
, Veust. Of th.. 
-iie ie, the Island 

wiU speak to his G .gry hopeful Monster. Monster what 
great as we are. - 61.,^ content to turn civil and sober, as 

Trine. Yov^ow m^^ g^ait be my Subject. 

Vent. Wetwqlet x,^^^^ ^YislI Bottle to be true; for 
when we are v .ierly^j-^hly : didst thou not drop from 
_ Trine. Do us all •" ^ 

Trine. Only oBt of the Moon ; I was the Man in her 
when time was. By this hght, a very shallow Mon- 

Calib. rieshew thee every fertile inch i' th' Isle, and 
kiss thy foot : I prithee be my God, and let me drink. 

[Drinks agen. 

Trine. Well drawn, Monster, in good faith. 

Act ii] The Enchanted Island 35 

Calih. I'le shew thee the best Springs, lie pluck thee 
I'le fish for thee, and get thee wood enough. 
A curse upon the Tyrant whom I serve. He bear him 
No more sticks, but follow thee. 

Trine. The poor Monster is loving in his drink. 
Calih. I prithee let me bring thee where Crabs grow. 
And I, with my long Nails, will dig thee Pig-nuts, 
Shew thee a Jay's Nest, and instruct thee how to snare 
The Marmazet ; I'le bring thee to cluster'd Filberds ; 
Wilt thou go with me ? 

Trine. This Monster comes of a good Natur'd Race ; 
Is there no more of thy Kin in this Island ? 

Calib. Divine, here is but one besides my self ; 
My Lovely Sister, Beautiful and Bright as the full Moon. 
Trine. Where is she ! 

Calih. I left her clambring up a hollow Oak, 
And plucking thence the droping Honey-Combs. 
Say my King, shall I call her to thee ? 

Trine. She shall swear upon the Bottle too. If she 
proves handsom she is mine : Here Monster, Drink agen 
for thy good news, thou shaft speak a good word for me. 

{Gives him the Bottle. 
Calib. Farewel, Old Master, farewel, farewel. 
Sings. No more Dams I'le make for Fish, 
Nor fetch in Firing at requiring, 
Nor scrape Trencher, nor wash Dish. 
Ban, ban, Cackalihan 
Has a new Master, get a new Man. 
Heigh-day, Freedom, Freedom! 
Trine. Here's two Subjects got already, the Monster, 
and his Sister: Well, Duke Stephana, I say, and say 
agen, wars wiU ensue, and so I Drink. [Drinks.] From 
this Worshipful Monster, and Mistress Monster his 
Sister, I'le lay claim to this Island by Alhance. Mon- 
ster, I say thy Sister shall be my Spouse : Come away 

36 The Tempest ; or [Act 11 

Brother Monster, I'le lead thee to my Butt and Drink 

Her Health. {Exeunt. 

Enter Prospero alone. 

Prosp. 'Tis not yet fit to let my Daughters know I 
The Infant Duke of Mantua so near them in this Isle, 
Whose Father Dying Bequeath'd him to my care, 
TiU my false Brother (when he design'd t' Usurp 
My Dukedom from me) Expos'd him to that fate 
He meant for me. By Calculation of his Birth 
I saw Death threat'ning him, if, tiU some time were past. 
He should behold the Face of any Woman : 
And now the danger's nigh. Hippolito ! 
Enter Hippolito. 

Hip. Sir, I attend your pleasure. 

Prosp. How I have lov'd thee from thy infancy, 
Heav'n knows, and thou thy self canst bear me witness. 
Therefore accuse not me for thy restraint. 

Hip. Since I knew life, you've kept me in a Rock, 
Anf you this day have hurry'd me from thence. 
Only to change my Prison, not to free me. 
I murmur not, but I may wonder at it. 

Prosp. O gentle Youth, Fate Waits for thee abroad, 
A black Star threatens thee, and Death unseen 
Stands ready to devour thee. 

Hip. You taught me 
Not to fear him in any of his shapes : 
Let me meet Death rather than be a Prisoner. 

Prosp. 'Tis pity he should seize thy tender Youth. 

Hip. Sir, I have heard you say, no Creature liv'd 
Within this Isle, but those which Man was Lord of. 
Why should then I fear ? 

Prosp. But here are Creatures which I nam'd not to 
Who share Man's Sovereignty by Nature's Laws, 
And oft depose him from it. 

Act ii] The Enchanted Island 37 

Hip. What are those Creatures, Sir ? 

Prosp. Those dangerous Enemies of Men call'd women. 

Hip. Women! I never heard of them before. 
But have I Enemies within this Isle ? 
And do you keep me from them ? Do you think 
That I want courage to encounter them ? 

Prosp. No courage can resist 'em. 

Hip. How then have you. Sir, 
Liv'd so long unharm'd among them ? 

Prosp. O they despise Old Age, and spare it for that 
reason : 
T'is below their Conquest, Their Fury falls 
Alone upon the Young.- 

Hip. Why then the Fury of the Young shall fall on 
them again. 
Pray turn me loose upon 'em : but, good Sir, 
What are Women like ? 

Prosp. Imagine something between young men and 
Angels : 
FataUy Beauteous, and have Killing Eyes, 
Their Voices Charm beyond the Nightingales ; 
They're aU Enchantment ; those who once behold 'em. 
Are made their Slaves for ever. 

Hip. Then I will wink and fight with 'em. 

Prosp. 'Tis but in vain, for when your Eyes are shut. 
They through the Lids will shine, and Pierce your Soul : 
Absent, they will be present to you. 
They'l haunt you in your very Sleep. 

Hip. Then I'le revenge it on them when I wake. 

Prosp. You are without all possibility of revenge ; 
They are so Beautiful that you can ne'er attempt. 
Nor wish to hurt them. 

Hip. Are they so beautiful ? 

Prosp. Calm Sleep is not so soft, nor Winter Suns, 
Nor Summer Shades so pleasant. 
• Hip. Can they be Fairer than the Plumes of Swans ? 

38 The Tempest ', or [Act 11 

Or more Delightful than the Peacocks Feathers ? 
Or than the gloss upon the necks of Doves ? 
Or have more various Beauty than the Rain-Bow ? 
These I have seen, and without danger wondered at. 

Prosp. All these are far below 'em : Nature made 
Nothing but Woman dangerous and fair : 
Therefore if you should chance to see 'em, 
Avoid 'em streight, I charge you. 

Hip. Well, since you say they are so Dangerous, 
I'le so far shun 'em as I may with safety 
Of the unblemish'd honour which you taught me. 
But let 'em not provoke me, for I'm sure 
I shall not then forbear them. 

Prosp. Go in and read the Book I gave you last. 
To morrow I may bring you better News. 

Hip. I shall obey you Sir. [Exit Hippolito. 

Prosp. So, so ; I hope this Lesson has secur'd him ; 
For I have been constrain'd to change his Lodging 
From yonder Rock where first I bred him up, 
And here have brought him home to my own Cell, 
Because the Shipwrack happen'd near his Mansion. 
I hope he will not stir beyond his limits. 
For hitherto he has been all Obedience. 
The Planets seem to smile on my designs ; 
And yet there is one sullen Cloud behind, 
I would it were disperst. How, my Daughters! 

[Enter Miranda and Dorinda. 
I thought I had instructed them enough : 
Children, retire ; Why do you walk this way ? 

Mir. It is within our Bounds, Sir. 

Prosp. But both take heed, that path is very dangerous. 
Remember what I told you. 

Dor. Is the man that way. Sir ? 

Prosp. All that you can imagine ill is there : 
The Curled Lyon, and the Rugged Bear 
Are not so dreadful as that Man. 

Act ii] The Enchanted Island 39 

Mir. Oh me, why stay we here then ? 

Dor. I'le keep far enough from his Den, I warrant him. 

Mir. But you have told me, Sir, you are a Man ; 
And yet you are not Dreadful. 

Prosp. I Child! But I am a tame Man: Old Men 
are tame 
By Nature, but all the Danger hes in a wild 
Young Man. 

Dor. Do they run wild about the Woods ? 

Prosp. No, they are wild within Doors, in Chambers, 
And in Closets. 

Dor. But Father, I would stroak 'em, make 'em gentle. 
Then sure they would not hurt me. 

Prosp. You must not trust them. Child: 
No Woman can come neer'em but she feels 
A Pain full nine Months : WeU I must in, for new 
Affairs require my presence : 
Be you, Miranda, your Sister's Guardian. 

[Exit Prospero. 

Dor. Come, Sister, shaU we walk the other way. 
The man wiU catch us else, we have but two Legs, 
And he perhaps has four. 

Mir. Well, Sister, though he have, yet look about you 
And we shaU spy him 'ere he comes too near us. 

Dor. Come back, that way is towards his Den. 

Mir. Let me alone : I'le venture first, for sure he can 
Devour but one of us at once. 

Dor. How dare you venture ? 

Mir. We'll find him sitting like a Hare in's Form, 
And he shaU not see us. 

Dor. I, but you know my Father charg'd us both. 

Mir. But who shall tell him on't ? We'll keep each 
Others Counsel. 

Dor. I dare not for the world. 

Mir. But how shall we hereafter shun him, if we do 
not Know him first ? 

40 The Tempest ; or [Act ii 

Bor. Nay, I confess, I would fain see him too. 
I find it in my Nature, 
Because my Father has forbidden me. 

Mir. I; there's it. Sister, if he had said nothing I 
had been quiet. Go softly, and if you see him first, be 
quick and becken me away. 

Bov. Well, if he does catch me, I'le humble my self 
to him, 
And ask him Pardon, as I do my Father, 
When I have done a Fault. 

Mir. And if I can but scape with Life, I had rather 

be in pain nine Months, as my Father threatn'd than 

lose my Longing. \E%eunt. 

The Scene changes, and discovers Hippolito in a Cave 

walking : his face from the 'Audience 

Hip. Prosper has often said that Nature makes 
Nothing in vain : Why then are Women made ? 
Are they to suck the Poyson of the Earth, 
As gaudy colour'd serpents are ? I'le ask 
That question, when next I see him here. 

Enter Miranda and Dorinda peeping. 

Dor. O Sister, there it is ; it walks about like one of us. 

Mir. I, just so ; and has Legs as we have too. 

Hip. It strangely puzzles hie: Yet 'tis most likely 
Women are some what between men and spirits. 

Dor. Heark! It talks, sure this is not it my Father 
For this is just like one of us : Methinks I am not half 
So much afraid on't as I was : See, now it turns this way. 

Mir. Heav'n, what a goodly thing it is ! 

Dor. I'le go nearer it. 

Mir. O no, 'tis Dangerous, Sister! I'le go to it. 
I would not for the world that you should venture. 
My Father charg'd me to secure you from it. 

Dor. I warrant you this is a tame Man, dear Sister. 
He'll not hurt me, I see it by his Looks. 

Act ii] The Enchanted Island 41 

Mir. Indeed he will ! But go back, and he shall eat 
me first : 
Fye, are you not asham'd to be so much inquisitive ? 

Dor. You chide me for't, and wou'd give your self. 

Mir. Come back, or I will tell my Father. 
Observe how he begins to stare already. 
I'le meet the danger first, and then call you. 

Dor. Nay, Sister, you shall never vanquish me in 
I'le venture you, no more than you will me. 

Prosp. within. Miranda, Child, where are you! 

Mir. Do you not hear my Father call ? Go in. 

Dor. 'Twas you he nam'd, not me : I will but say 
My Prayers, And follow you immediately. 

Mir. Well ; Sister, you'l repent it. [Exit Miranda. 

Dor. Though I die for't, I must have th' other peep. 

Hip. [Seeing her.] What thing is that ? Sure 'tis some 
Infant of 
The Sun, dress'd in its Father's gayest Beams, 
And comes to play with Birds : My Sight is dazl'd. 
And yet I find I'm loth to shut my Eyes. 

I must go nearer it but stay a while. 

May it not be that Beauteous murderer. Woman, 
Which I was charg'd to shun ? Speak, what art thou ? 
Thou shining Vision ! 

Dor. Alass ! I know not : But I'm told I am a Woman. 
Do not hurt me, pray, fair thing. 

Hip. I'd sooner tear my Eyes out, than consent 
To do you any harm ; though I was told 
A Woman was my Enemy. 

Dor. I never knew what it was to be an Enemy. 
Nor can I e'er prove so to that which looks 
Like you : For though I have been charg'd by him 
(Whom yet I never disobey'd) to shun 
Your Presence, yet I'd rather dye than lose it : 
Therefore, I hope, you will not have the Heart 

42 The Tempest I or [Act ii 

To hurt me : though I fear you are a man, 

That dangerous thing of which I have been warn'd : 

Pray tell me what you are ? 

Hip. I must confess, I was inform'd I am a Man, 
But if I fright you, I shall wish I were some other 

I was bid to fear you too. 

Bor. Ay me ! Heav'n grant we be not poyson to each 
other ! 
Alas ! can we not meet but we must die ? 

mp. I hope not so! For when two poysonous 
Both of the same kind meet, yet neither dies. 
I've seen two Serpents harmless to each other. 
Though they have twin'd into a mutual Knot. 
If we have any venome in us, sure. 
We cannot be more Poysonous, when we meet. 
Than Serpents are. You have a hand like mine, 
May I not gently touch it ? {Takes her hand. 

Dor. I've touch'd my Father's and my Sisters hands 
And felt no pain ; but now, alas ! there's something. 
When I touch yours, which makes me sigh: just so 
I've seen two Turtles mourning when they met. 
Yet mine's a pleasing grief; and so methought was 

theirs ; 
ForstiUtheymourn'd,andstiU they seem'dtomurmur too; 
And yet they often met. 

Hip. Oh Heavens ! I have the same sense too : your 
Methinks goes through me ; I feel at my heart. 
And find it pleases, though it pains me. 

Prosp. within.] Dorinda ! 

Dor. My Father caUs agen, ah ; I must leave you. 

Hip. Alas I'm subject to the same command. 

Dor. This is my first offence against my Father, 
Which he, by severing us, too crueUy does punish. 

Act III] The Enchanted Island 43 

Rip. And this is my first trespass too : but he hath 
Offended truth than we have him : 
He said our meeting would destructive be, 
But I no death but in our parting see. 

\Exeunt several ways. 

Act III. 

Enter Prospero and Miranda. 
Prosp. "P'XCUSE it not, Miranda, for to you 

JHc (The Elder, and, I thought the more dis- 
I gave the conduct of your Sister's actions. 

Mir. Sir, when you cali'd me thence, I did not fail. 
To mind her of her duty to depart. 

Prosp. How can I think you did remember hers, 
When you forgot your own ? did you not see 
The Man whom I commanded you to shun ? 

Mir. I must confess I saw him at a distance. 

Prosp. Did not his Eyes infect and poyson you? 
What alteration found you in your self ? 

Mir. I only wondred at a sight so new. 

Prosp. But have you no desire once more to see him ? 
Come, tell me truly what you think of him ? 

Mir. As of the gayest thing I ever saw. 
So fine, that it appear' d more fit to be 
Belov'd than fear'd, and seem'd so near my kind, 
That I did think I might have cali'd it Sister. 

Prosp. You do not love it ? 

Mir. How is 'i Hkely that 
I should, except the thing had first lov'd me ? 

Prosp. Cherish those thoughts : you have a gen'rous 
And since I see your Mind not apt to take 
The light impressions of a sudden Love, 

44 'The Tempest -J or [Act in 

I will unfold a Secret to your Knowledge. 
That Creature which you saw, is of a kind 
Which Nature made a prop and guide to yours. 

Mir. Why did you then propose him as an object 
Of terrour to my Mind ? you never us'd 
To teach me any thing but God-Hke Truths, 
And what you said I did believe as sacred. 

Prosp. I fear'd the pleasing form of this young man 
Might unawares possess your tender Breast, 
Which for a nobler Guest I had design'd ; 
For shortly, my Miranda, you shall see 
Another of his kind, the fuU blown Flower, 
Of which this youth was but the Op'ning-bud. 
Go in, and send your Sister to me. 

Mir. Heav'n stiU preserve you. Sir. [Exit Miranda- 
Pros^. And make thee fortunate. 
Dorinda, now must be examin'd too 
Concerning this late interview. I'm sure 
Unartful truth lies open in her Mind, 
As Crystal streams their sandy bottom show. 
I must take care her love grow not too fast. 
For Innocence is Love's most fertile soil. 
Wherein he soon shoots up and widely spreads, 
Nor is that danger which attends Hippolito yet over- 

Enter Dorinda. 

Prosp. O, come hither, you have seen a Man to day. 
Against my strict Command. 

Dor. Who I ? indeed I saw him but a little, Sir. 

Prosp. Come, come, be clear. Your Sister told me all. 

Dor. Did she ? truly she would have seen him more 
than I, 
But that I would not let her. 

Prosp. Why so ? 

Dor. Because, methought, he would have hurt me less 
Than he would her. But if I knew you'd not 

Act III] The Enchanted Island 45 

Be angry with him, I could tell you, Sir, 
That he was much to blame. 

Prosp. Hah ! was he to blame ? 
Tell me, with that sincerity I taught you. 
How you became so bold to see the Man ? 

Dor. I hope you will forgive me. Sir, because I did 
not see him much till he saw me. Sir, he would needs 
come in my way, and star'd, and star'd upon my face ; 
and so I thought I would be reveng'd of him, and 
therefore I gaz'd on him as long ; but if I e're come neer 
a Man again 

Prosp. I told you he was dangerous ; but you would 
not be warn'd. 

Dor. Pray be not angry, Sir, if I tell you, you are 
mistaken in him ; for he did me no great hurt. 

Prosp. But he may do you more harm hereafter. 

Dor. No, Sir, I'm as well as e're I was in all my 
But that I cannot eat nor drink for thought of him. 
That dangerous man runs ever in my Mind. 

Prosp. The way to cure you, is no more to see him. 

Dor. Nay pray, Sir, say not so, I promis'd him 
To see him once agen ; and you know. Sir, 
You charg'd me I shou'd never break my Promise. 

Prosp. Wou'd you see him who did you so much 
mischief ? 

Dor. I warrant you I did him as much harm 
As he did me. For when I left him. Sir, 
He sigh'd so as it griev'd my heart to hear him. 

Prosp. Those sighs were poysonous, they infected 
You say they griev'd you to the heart. 

Dor. 'Tis true; but yet his looks and words were 

Prosp. These are the Day-dreams of a Maid in love, 
But still I fear the worst. 

4-6 The Tempest ; or [Act in 

Dor. O fear not him, Sir, 
I know he will not hurt you for my sake ; 
I'le undertake to tye him to a hair, 
And lead him hither as my Pris'ner to you. 

Prosp. Take heed Dorinda, you may be deceiv'd ; 
This Creature is of such a Salvage race. 
That no mild usage can reclaim his wildness ; 
But, like a Lyon's Whelp bred up by hand. 
When least you look for't. Nature will present 
The Image of his Fathers bloody Paws, 
Wherewith he purvey'd for his couching Queen ; 
And he will leap into his native fury. 

Dor. He cannot change from what I left him. Sir. 

Prosp. You speak of him with too much Passion; 
tell me 
(And on your duty tell me true, Dorinda) 
What past betwixt you and that horrid Creature ? 

Dor. How, horrid. Sir! if any else but you 
Should call it so, indeed I should be angry. 

Prosp. Go too! you are a foolish Girl; but answer 
To what I ask, what thought you when you saw it ? 

Dor. At first it star'd upon me and seem'd wild, 
And then I trembled ; yet it look'd so lovely. 
That when I would have fled away, my Feet 
Seem'd fasten'd to the ground ; then it drew near. 
And with amazement askt to touch my hand ; 
Which, as a ransom for my life, I gave : 
But when he had it, with a furious gripe. 
He put it to his mouth so eagerly, 
I was afraid he would have swallow' d it. 

Prosp. Well, what was his behaviour afterwards? 

Dor. He on a sudden grew so tame and gentle, 
That he became more kind to me than you are ; 
Then, Sir, I grew I know not how, and touching 
His hand agen, my heart did beat so strong 
As I lackt breath to answer what he ask'd. 

Act III] The Enchanted Island 47 

Pfosp. You 've been too fond, and I should chide you 
for it. 

Dor. Then send me to that creature to be pun- 

Prosp. Poor Child! thy Passion like a lazy Ague 
Has seiz'd thy Blood ; instead of striving thou 
Humour'st and feed'st thy languishing Disease 
Thou fight' st the Battels of thy Enemy ; 
And 'tis one part of what I threatn'd thee. 
Not to perceive thy danger. 

Dor. Danger, Sir? 
If he would hurt me, yet he knows not how. 
He hath no Claws, nor Teeth, nor Horns to hurt me ; 
But looks about him hke a Callow-Brid 
Just straggl'd from the Nest : pray trust me, Sir, 
To go to him agen. 

Prosp. Since you will venture, 
I charge you bear your self reserv'dly to him. 
Let him not dare to touch your naked hand, 
But keep at distance from him. 

Dor. This is hard. 

Prosp. It is the way to make him love you more ; 
He wiU despise you if you grow too kind. 

Dor. I'le struggle with my heart to follow this ; 
But if I lose him by it, will you promise 
To bring him back again ; 

Prosp. Fear not, Dorinda ; 
But use him ill and he'l be yours for ever. 

Dor. I hope you have not couzen'd me agen. 

[Exit Dorinda. 

Prosp. Now my designs are gathering to a head. 
My Spirits are obedient to my Charms. 
What, ArieU my Servant Ariel, 
Where art thou ? 

Enter Ariel. 

Ariel. What wou'd my potent Master? here I am. 

48 The Tempest I or [Act in 

Prosp. Thou and thy meaner fellows your last service 
Did worthily perform, and I must use you 
In such another Work : how goes the day ? 

Ariel. On the fourth [hour], my Lord, and on the 
You said our work should cease. 

Prosp. And so it shall ; 
And thou shalt have the open Air at freedom. 

Ariel. Thanks my great Lord. 

Prosp. But tell me first, my Spirit, 
How fares the Duke, my Brother, and their followers ? 

Ariel. Confin'd together, as you gave me order. 
In the Lime-Grove which weather-fends your Cell. 
Within that Circuit up and down they wander. 
But cannot stir one step beyond their compass. 

Prosp. How do they bear their sorrows ? 

Ariel. The two Dukes 
Appear like Men distracted ; their Attendants 
Brim-full of sorrow mourning over them ; 
But chiefly, he you term'd the good Gonzalo : 
His tears run down his Beard, like Winter-drops 
From Eaves of Reeds : your Vision did so work 'em, 
That if you now beheld 'em, your affections 
Would become tender. 

Prosp. Dost thou think so, Spirit ? 

Ariel. Mine would. Sir, were I humane. 

Prosp. And mine shall : 
Hast thou, who art but air, a touch, a feeUng 
Of their Afflictions, and shall not I (a Man 
Like them, one who as sharply relish Passions 
As they) be kindlier moved than thou art ? 
Though they have pierc'd me to the quick with in- 
Yet with my nobler Reason 'gainst my fury, 
I will take part ; the rarer action is 
In Virtue than in Vengeance. Go, my Ariel, 

Act in] The Enchanted Island 49 

Refresh with needful Food their famish'd Bodies. 
With shows and cheerful Musick comfort 'em. 

Ariel. Presently, Master. 

Prosp. With a twinckle, Ariel. 

Ariel. Before you can say come and go, 
And breath twice, and cry so, so. 
Each Spirit tripping on his toe, 
Shall bring 'em Meat with mop and moe. 
Do you love me, Master, I or no ? 

Prosp. Dearly, my dainty Ariel, but stay. Spirit ; 
What is become of my Slave Caliban, 
And Sycorax his Sister ? 

Ariel. Potent Sir! 
They have cast off your Service, and revolted 
To the wrack'd Mariners, who have already 
ParceU'd your Island into Governments. 

Prosp. No matter, I have now no need of 'em ; 
But, spirit, now I stay thee on the Wing ; 
Haste to perform what I have given in charge : 
But see they keep Avithin the bounds I set 'em. 

Ariel. I'le keep 'em in with Walls of Adamant, 
Invisible as air to mortal Eyes, 
But yet unpassable. 

Prosp. Make hast then. [Exeunt severally. 

Enter Alonzo, Antonio, Gonzalo. 

Gonz. I am weary, and can go jio farther. Sir, 
My old Bones ake, here's a Maze trod indeed. 
Through Forth-rights and Meanders, by your Pa- 
I needs must rest. 

Alonz. Old Lord, I cannot blame thee, who am my 
self seiz'd 
With a weariness to the dulling of my Spirits : 
Sit and rest. [They sit. 

Even here I wiU put off my hope ; and keep it 
No longer for my Flatterers : he is drown'd 


50 'The Tempest ; or [Act in 

Whom thus we stray to find, and the Sea mocks 
Our frustrate Search on Land : Well! let him go. 

Ant. Do not for one repulse forego the purpose 
Which you resolv'd t'effect. 

Alonz. I'm faint with hunger. 
And must despair of food, Heav'n hath incens'd 
The Seas and shores against us for our crimes. [Musick. 
What! Harmony agen, my good Friends, heark! 

Ant. I fear some other horrid Apparition. 
Give us kind Keepers, Heaven I beseech thee ! 

Gonz. 'Tis chearful Musick, this ; unlike the first ; 
And seems as if 'twere meant t' unbend our cares. 
And calm your troubled thoughts. 

Ariel invisible SINGS. 
Dry those eyes which are o'rejlowing, 
Ail your storms are over-blowing : 
While you in this Isle are bideing, 
You shall feast without providing : 
Every dainty you can think of, 
Ev'ry Wine which you would drink of, 
Shall be yours ; all want shall shun you, 
Ceres Blessing so is on you. 

Alonz. This Voice speaks comfort to us. 
Ant. Wou'd 'twere come; there is no Musick in a 
To me, my stomack being empty. 

Gonz. O for a Heavenly Vision of Boyl'd, Bak'd, and 

Roasted ! 
Enter eight fat Spirits, with Cornu-Copia in their 

Alonz. Are these plump shapes sent to deride our 
hunger ? 

Gonz. No, no : it is a Masque of fatten'd DevUs, 
The Burgo-Masters of the lower Region. • 

[Dance and Vanish. 

Act III] The Enchanted Island 51 

for a Collop of that large-haunch' d Devil 
Who went out last ! 

Ant. going to the door. My Lord, the Duke, see yonder. 
A Table, as I Uve, set out and furnisht 
With all varieties of Meats and Fruits. 

Alonz. 'Tis so indeed, but who dares tast this Feast : 
Which Fiends provide, perhaps to poyson us ? 

Gonz. Why that dare I ; if the black Gentleman 
Be so iU-natur'd, he may do his pleasure. 

Ant. 'Tis certain we must either eat or famish, 

1 wiU encounter it, and feed. 

Alonz. If both resolve, I wiU adventure too. 
Gonz. Then good my Lord, make haste. 
And say no Grace before it, I beseech you. 
Because the meat will vanish strait, if, as I fear. 
An evil Spirit be our Cook. [Exeunt. 

Enter Trincalo and Caliban. 
• Trine. Brother Monster, welcome to my private 

But Where's thy Sister, is she so brave a Lass ? 

Calih. In aU this Isle there are but two more, the 
Daughters of the Tyrant Prospero ; and she is bigger 
than 'em both. O here she comes; now thou may'st 
judge thy self, my Lord. 

Enter Sycorax. 
Trine. She's monstrous fair indeed. Is this to be my 
Spouse ? WeU, she's Heir of all this Isle (for I wiU geld 
Monster). The Trincalos, like other wise Men, have 
anciently us'd to Marry for Estate more than for Beauty. 
Syeorax. I prithee let me have the gay thing about 
thy Neck, and that which dangles at thy Wrist. 

[Sycorax points to his Bosen's Whistle, and his 
Trine. My dear Blobber-lips ; this, observe my 
Chuck, is a badge of my Sea-Of!ice ; my fair Fuss, thou 
dost not know it. 

52 The Tempest ; or [Act iii 

Syc. No, my dread Lord. 

Trine. It shall be a Whistle for our first Babe ; and 
when the next Shipwrack puts me again to swimming, 
I'le dive to get a Coral to it. 

Syc. I'le be thy pretty Child, and wear it first. 

Trine. I prithee sweet Babby do not play the wanton, 
and cry for my Goods e're I'm dead. When thou art my 
Widow, thou shalt have the Devil and all. 

Syc. May I not have the other fine thing ? 

Trine. This is a Sucking-Bottle for young Trincalo. 

Calih. This is a God a mighty Liquor; I did but 
drink thrice of it, and it hath made me glad e're 

Syc. He is the bravest God I ever saw. 

Calih. You must be kind to him, and he will love you. 
I prithee speak to her, my Lord, and come neerer her. 

Trine. By this light, I -dare not tiU I have drank : I 
must fortifie my stomack first. • 

Sye. I shall have all his fine things when I'm a 
Widow. [Pointing to his Bottle, and Bosen's Whistle. 

Calih. I, but you must be kind and kiss him then. 

Trine. My Brother Monster is a rare Pimp. 

Sye. I'le hug thee in my Arms, my Brother's God. 

Trine. Think o' thy Soul, Trincalo, thou art a dead 
Man if this kindness continue. 

Calih. And he shall get thee a young Syeorax, wilt 
thou not, my Lord ? 

Trine. Indeed I know not how, they do no such thing 
in my Country. 

Syc. I'le shew thee how; thou shalt get me twenty 
Syeoraxes ; and I'le get thee twenty Calihans. 

Trine. Nay, if they are got, she must do't all her self, 
that's certain. 

Syc. And we wiU tumble in cool Plashes, and the soft 
Fens, where we will make us Pillows of Flags and Bull- 

Act III] The Enchanted Island 53 

Calih. My Lord, she would be loving to thee, and thou 
wilt not let her. 

Trine. Ev'ry thing in its Season, Brother Monster; 
but you must counsel her ; fair Maids must not be too 

Syc. My Brother's God, I love thee ; prithee let me 
come to thee. 

Trine, Subject Monster, I charge thee keep the Peace 
between us. 

Calib. Shall she not taste of that Immortal Liquor ? 

Trine. Umph ! That's another question : for if she 
be thus flipant in her Water, what wiU she be in her 

Enter Ariel [invisible) and changes the Bottle 
which stands upon the ground. 

Ariel. There's Water for your Wine. [Exit Ariel. 

Trine. Well! Since it must be so. [Gives her the 
Bottle.] How do you hke it now, my Queen that must 
be ? [She drinks. 

Syc. Is this your heavenly liquor ? I'le bring you to a 
River of the same. * 

Trine. Wilt thou so. Madam Monster? What a 
mighty Prince shall I be then ? I would not change my 
Dukedom to be great Turk Trinealo. 

Syc. This is the drink of Frogs. 

Trine. Nay, if the Frogs of this Island drink such, 
they are the merry est Frogs in Christendom. 

Calih. She does not know the virtue of this liquor: 
I prithee let me drink for her. 

Trine. Well said, Subject Monster. [Caliban drinks. 

Calih. My Lord, this is meer Water. 

Trine. 'Tis thou hast chang'd the Wine then, and 
drunk it up, like a debauch'd Fish as thou art. Let me 
see't, I'll taste it my self. Element! Meer Element! 
As I hve. It wd.s a cold gulp, such as this, which kill'd 
my famous Predecessor old Simon the King. 

54 The Tempest',, or [Act iii 

Calih. How does thy honour ? Prithee be not angry, 
and I will Hck thy shoe. 

Trine. I could find in my heart to turn thee out of 
my Dominions, for a liquorish Monster. 

Calih. O my Lord, I have found it out ; this must be 
done by one of Prospero's Spirits. 

Trine. There's nothing but Malice in these Devils, I 
never lov'd 'em from my Childhood. The Devil take 
'em, I would it had bin Holy-water for their sakes. 

Syc. Will not thy mightiness revenge our wrongs, on 
this great Sorcerer? I know thou wilt, for thou art 

Trine. In my Sack, Madam Monster, as any flesh 

Syc. Then I will cleave to thee. 

Trine. Lovingly said, in troth : now cannot I hold 
out against her. This Wife-like virtue of hers, has 
overcome me. 

Sye. Shall I have thee in my Arms ? 

Trine. Thou shalt have Duke Trincalo in thy Arms : 
but prithee be not too boistrous wilih me at first ; do 
not discourage a young Beginner. [They embrace. 

Enter Stephano, Mustacho, Ventoso. 
Stand to your Arms, my Spouse, and Subject Monster; 
the Enemy is come to surprise us in our Quarters. You 
shall know Rebels that I am Marry'd to a Witch, and 
we have a thousand Spirits of our Party. 

Steph. Hold! I ask a Truce; I and my Vice-Roys 
(Finding no food, and but a small remainder of Brandy) 
are come to treat a Peace betwixt us, which may be for 
the good of both Armies; therefore Trincalo dis- 

Trine. Plain Trincalo, methinks I might have been 
a Duke in your Mouth : I'le not accept of your Embassy 
without my title. 

Steph. A title shall break no squares betwixt us: 

Act III] The Enchanted -Island 55 

Vice-Roys, give him his stile of Duke, and treat with 
him, whilst I walk by in state. 

[Ventoso and Mustacho how whilst Trincalo 
puts on Ms Cap. 

Must. Our Lord and Master, Duke Stephano, has sent 
us in the first place to demand of you, upon what 
ground you make War against him, having no right to 
govern here, as being Elected only by your own Voice. 

Trine. To this I answer, that having in the Face of 
the World Espous'd the lawful Inheritrix of this Island, 
Queen Blouze the First, and having homage done me, 
by this hectoring Spark her Brother ; from these two 
I claim a lawful Title to this Island. 

Must. Who, that Monster ? he a Hector ? 

Calih. Lo ! how he mocks me ; wilt thou let him, my 

Vent. Lord! Quoth he: the Monster's a very natural. 

Syc. Lo ! lo ! agen ; bite him to death I prithee. 

Trine. Vice-Roys ! keep good Tongues in your heads 
I advise you, and proceed to your business, for I have 
other affairs to dispatch of more importance betwixt 
Queen Slobber-Chops and my self. 

Must. First and foremost, as to your claim that you 
have answer'd. 

Vent. But second and foremost, we demand of you, 
that if we make a Peace, the Butt also may be compre- 
hended in the Treaty. 

Must. Is the Butt safe, Duke Trincalo ? 

Trine. The Butt is partly safe : but to comprehend 
it in the Treaty, or indeed to make any Treaty, I cannot, 
with my honour, without your submission. These two, 
and the Spirits under me, stand likewise upon their 

Calih. Keep the liquor for us, my Lord, and let them 
drink Brine ; for I will not show 'em the quick freshes of 
the Island. 

56 T'he -Tempest ; or [Act in 

Steph. I understand, being present, from my Embass- 
adors what your resolution is, and ask an hours time of 
dehberation, and so I take our leave. But first I desire 
to be entertain'd, at your Butt, as becomes a Prince, 
and his Embassadors. 

Trine. That I refuse, till acts of Hostility be ceas'd. 
These Rogues are rather Spies than Embassadors: I 
must take heed of my Butt. They come to pry into the 
secrets of my Dukedom. 

Vent. Tnnealo you are a barbarous Prince, and so 
farewel. [Exeunt Stephano, Mustacho, Ventoso. 

Trine. Subject Monster! stand you Sentry before my 
Cellar ; my Queen and I will enter and feast our selves 

Sye. May I not Marry that other King and his two 
Subjects, to help you a nights ? 

Trine. What a careful Spouse have I ? Well! If she 
does Cornute me, the care is taken. 
When underneath my Power my Foes have truckl'd. 
To be a Prince, who would not be a Cuckold ? [Exeunt. 
Enter Ferdinand, and Ariel {invisible). 

Ferd. How far will this invisible Musician 
Conduct my steps ? He hovers still about me ; 
Whether for good or ill I cannot tell ; 
Nor care I much ; for I have been so long 
A Slave to chance, that I'm as weary of 
Her flatteries as her frowns : but here I am 

Ariel. Here I am. 

Ferd. Hah! Art thou so? The Spirit's turn'd an 
Eccho : 
This might seem pleasant, could the burthen of 
My Griefs accord with any thing but sighs. 
And my last words, like those of dying Men 
Need no reply. Fain I would go to shades. 
Where few would wish to follow me. 

Ariel. Follow me. 

Act III] The Enchanted Island 57 

Ferd. This evil Spirit grows importunate, 
But I'le not take his counsel. 

Ariel. Take his counsel. 

Ferd,. It may be the Devil's counsel. I'le never take it. 

Ariel. Take it. 

Ferd. I will discourse no more with thee, 
Nor foUow one step further. 

Ariel. One step further. 

Ferd. This must have more importance than an 
Some Spirit tempts me to a precipice. 
I'U try if it will answer when I sing 
My Sorrows to the murmurs of this Brook. 

He Sings. • 

Go thy way. 
Ariel. Go thy way. 

Ferd. Why should' st thou stay ? 

Ariel. Why should' st thou stay ? 

Ferd. Where the Winds whistle, and where the streams 
Under yond Willow-tree, fain would I sleep. 
Then let me alone. 
For 'tis time to be gone. 
Ariel. For 'tis time to he gone. 

Ferd. What cares or pleasures can he in this Isle ? 
Within this desart place 
There lives no humane race ; 
Fate cannot frown here, nor kind Fortune smile. 
Ariel. Kind Fortune smiles, and she 
Has yet in store for thee 
Some strange felicity. 
Follow me, follow me, 
And thou shall see. 

Ferd. I'll take thy word for once ; 
Lead on Musician. [Exeunt and return. 

58 The Tempest ; or [Act iii 

Scene changes and discovers Prospero and Miranda. 

Prosp. Advance the fringed Curtains of thine Eyes, 
and say what thou seest yonder. 

Mir. Is it a Spirit ? Lord ! How it looks about ! Sir, 
I confess it carries a brave form ; But 'tis a Spirit. 

Prosp. No Girl, it eats and sleeps, and has such senses 
as we have. This young Gallant, whom thou see'st, 
was in the wrack : were he not somewhat stain'd with 
grief (Beauty's worst Cancker) thou might'st call him 
a goodly Person : he has lost his Company, and strays 
about to find 'em. 

Mir. I might call him a thing divine, for nothing 
natural I ever saw so noble. 

, Prosp. It goes on as my Soul prompts it. Spirit, fine 
Spirit, I'le free thee within two days for this. 

Ferd. She's sure the Mistress, on whom these Airs 
attend. Fair Excellence, if, as your form declares, you 
are divine, be pleas'd to instruct me how you will be 
worship'd; so bright a Beauty cannot sure belong to 
humane kind. 

Mir. I am, like you, a Mortal, if such you are. 

Ferd. My language too ! O Heavens ! I am the best 
of them who speak this Speech, when I'm in my own 

Prosp. How, the best ? What wert thou if the Duke 
of Savoy heard thee ? 

Ferd. As I am now, who wonders to hear thee speak 
of Savoy : He does hear me, and that he does I weep ; 
my self am Savoy, whose fatal Eyes (e're since at ebbe) 
beheld the Duke my Father wrackt. 

Mir. Alack ! For pity. 

Prosp. At the first sight they have chang'd Eyes: 
dear Ariel, 

I'll set thee free for this ^young Sir, a word. 

With hazard of your self you do me wrong. 

Mir. Why speaks my Father now so urgently ? 

Act III] The Enchanted Island 59 

This is the third Man that e're I saw, the first 
Whom e're I sigh'd for, sweet Heaven move my Father 
To be inchn'd my way. 

FerA. O ! If a Virgin ! and your affection not gone 
rie make you Mistress of Savoy. 

Prosp. Soft, Sir! One word more. 
They're in each others Power, but this swift 
Bus'ness I must uneasie make, lest too 
Light winning make the prize hght — one word more. 
Thou usurp'st the name not due to thee, and hast 
Put thy self on this Island as a Spy, 
To get the Government from me, the Lord on't. 

Ferd. No, as I am a Man. 

Mir. There's nothing iU can dwell in such a Temple, 
If th' Evil Spirit hath so fair a House, 
Good things wiU strive to dwell with it. 

Prosp. No more. Speak not you for him, he's a 
Tray tor. 
Come ! Thou art my Pris'ner and shalt be in 
Bonds. Sea-water shalt thou drink, thy food 
ShaU be the Fresh-Brook-Muscles, wither'd Roots 
And Husks, wherein the Acorn crawl'd; follow. 

Ferd. No, I'll resist such entertainment 
TiU my Enemy has more power. 

[He draws, and is charm' d from moving. 

Mir. O dear Father! Make not too rash a tryal 
Of him, for he is gentle and not fearful. 

Prosp. My Child my Tutor! Put thy Sword up 
Who m'ak'st a show, but dar'st not strike : 
Thy Conscience is possest with guilt. Come from 
Thy Ward, for I can here disarm thee with 
This Wand, and make thy Weapon drop. 

Mir. Beseech you Father. 

Prosp. Hence : hang not on my Garment. 

6o The Tempest i or [Act in 

Mir. Sir, have pity, 
lie be his Surety. 

Prosp. Silence! One word more 
ShaU make me chide thee, if not hate thee : what ? 
An Advocate for an Impostor ? Sure 
Thou think'st there are no more such shapes as his. 
To th' most of Men this is a Caliban, 
And they to him are Angels. 

Mir. My affections are then most humble, 
I have no ambition to see a goodlier Man. 

Prosp. Come on, obey : 
Thy Nerves are in their Infancy agen, and have 
No vigour in them. 

Ferd. So they are : 
My Spirits, as in a Dream, are aU bound up : 
My Father's loss, the weakness which I feel. 
The wrack of aU my Friends, and this Man's threats. 
To whom I am subdu'd, would seem light to me. 
Might I but once a day through my Prison 
Behold this Maid : all Corners else o' th' Earth 
Let liberty make use of : I have space 
Enough in such a Prison. 

Prosp. It works : come on : 
Thou hast done weU, fine Ariel : follow me. 
Hark what thou shalt more do for me [Whispers Ariel. 

Mir. Be of comfort ; 
My Father's of a better nature. Sir, 
Than he appears by Speech : this is unwonted 
Which now came from him. 

Prosp. Thou shalt be as free as Mountain Winds: 
But then exactly do all points of my Command. 

Ariel. To a Syllable. [Exit Ariel. 

Prosp. to Mir. Go in that way, speak not a word for 
I'U separate you. [Exit Miranda. 

Ferd. As soon thou may'st divide the Waters when 

Act III] The Enchanted Island 6i 

Thou strik'st' em, which pursue thy bootless blow, 
And meet when 'tis past. 

Prosp. Go practise your Philosophy within ; 
And if you are the same you speak your self. 

Bear your afflictions like a Prince That Door 

Shews you your Lodging. 

Ferd. 'Tis in vain to strive, I must obey. 

\E%it Ferdinand. 

Prosp. This goes as I would wish it. 
Now for my second care, Hippolito. 
I shall not need to chide him for his fault. 
His Passion is become his punishment. 
Come forth, Hippolito. 

Enter Hippolito. 

Hip. enfring. 'Tis Prospero's Voice. 

Prosp. Hippolito ! I know you now expect 
I should severely chide you : you have seen 
A Woman in contempt of my Commands. 

Hip. But, Sir, you see I am come off unharm'd ; 
I told you, that you need not doubt my Courage. 

Prosp. You think you have receiv'd no hurt. 

Hip. No, none Sir. 
Try me agen, when e're you please I'm ready : 
I think I cannot fear an Army 'of 'em. 

Prosp. How much in vain it is to bridle Nature ! 

Well ! What was the success of your encounter ? 

Hip. Sir, we had none, we yielded both at first, 
For I took her to mercy, and she me. 

Prosp. But are you not much chang'd from what you 

Hip. Methinks I wish and wish ! For what I know not. 

But still I wish yet if I had that Woman, 

She, I beHeve, could tell me what I wish for. 

Prosp. What wou'd you do to make that Woman 
yours ? 

62 The Tempest ; or [Act in 

Kip. I'd quit the rest o' th' World that I might live 
Alone with her, she never should be from me. 
We two would sit and look till our Eyes ak'd. 

Prosp. You'd soon be weary of her. 

Hip. 0, Sir never. 

Prosp. But you'l grow old and wrinckl'd, as you see 
Me now, and then you will not care for her. 

Hip. You may do what you please, but. Sir, we two 
Can never possibly grow old. 

Prosp. You must, Hippolito. 

Hip. Whether we will or no. Sir, who shall make us ? 

Prosp. Nature, which made me so. 

Hip. But you have told me, [Sir,j her works are 
various ; 
She made you old, but she has made us young. 

Prosp. Time will convince you ; 
Mean while be sure you tread in honours paths. 
That you may merit her : And that you may not want 
Fit occasions to employ your Virtue : 
In this next Cave there is a Stranger lodg'd, 
One of your kind, young, of a noble presence. 
And as he says himself, of Princely Birth ; 
He is my Pris'ner and in deep affliction, 
Visit, and comfort him ;' it will become you. 

Hip. It is my duty, Sir. [Exit Hippohto. 

Piiosp. True, he has seen a Woman, yet he lives, 
Perhaps I took the moment of his Birth 
Amiss, perhaps my Art it self is false. 
On what strange grounds we build our hopes and 

fears ! 
Mans Life is all a Mist, and in the dark. 
Our Fortunes meet us. 
If Fate be not, then what can we foresee ? 
Or how can we avoid it, if it be ? 
If by Free-will in our own paths we move. 
How are we bounded by Decrees above ? 

Act III] The Enchanted Island 63 

Whether we drive, or whether we are driven. 
If ill 'tis ours, if good the act of Heaven. 

\E%it Prospero. 
Enter Hippohto and, Ferdinand. 
Scene, a Cave. 

Ferd. Your pity, noble Youth, doth much obhge me. 
Indeed 'twas sad to lose a Father so. 

Hip. Ay, and an only Father too, for sure 
You said you had but one. 

Ferd. But one Father! he's wondrous simple [Aside. 

Hip. Are such misfortunes frequent in your World, 
Where many Men live ? 

Ferd. Such we are born to. 
But gentle Youth, as you have question'd me, 
So give me leave to ask you, what you are ? 

Hip. Do not you know ? 

Ferd. How should I ? 

Hip. I well hop'd I was a Man, but by your ignor- 
Of wh%t I am, I fear it is not so. 
Well, Prospero ! this is now the second time 
You have deceiv'd me. 

Ferd. Sir, there is no doubt 
You are a Man : But I would know of whence ? 

Hip. Why, of this World ; I never was in yours. 

Ferd.- Have you a Father ? 

Hip. I was told I had one. 
And that he was a Man ; yet I have been 
So much deceived, I dare not tell't you for 
A truth : but I have still been kept a Prisoner 
For fear of Women. 

Ferd. They indeed are dangerous. 
For since I came I have beheld one here. 
Whose Beauty pierc'd my heart. 

Hip. How did she pierce ? 
You seem not hurt. 

64 The Tempest ; or [Act in 

Ferd. Alas ! the wound was made by her bright Eyes, 
And festers by her absence. 
But to speak plain to you, Sir I love her. 

mp. Now I suspect that Love's the very thing, 
That I feel too ! Pray teU me truly. Sir, 
Are you not grown unquiet since you saw her ? 

Fevd. I take no rest. 

Rip. Just, just my Disease. 
Do you not wish you do not know for what ? 

Ferd. O no ! I know too well for what I wish. 

Kip. There, I confess, I differ from you, Sir : 
But you desire she may be always with you ? 

Ferd. I can have no felicity without her. 

Rip. Just my condition! Alas, gentle Sir, 
rie pity you, and you shall pity me. 

Ferd. I love so much, that if I have her not, 
I find I cannot live. 

Rip. How! Do you love her ? 
And would you have her too ? That must not be : 
For none but I must have her. , 

Ferd. But perhaps, we do not love the same : 
AH Beauties are not pleasing alike to all. 

Rip. Why are there more fair Women, Sir, 
Besides that one I love ? 

Ferd. That's a strange question. There are many 
Besides that Beauty which you love. 

Rip. I wiU have aU of that kind, if there be a hundred 
of 'em. 

Ferd. But noble Youth, you know not what you say, 

Rip. Sir, they are things I love, I cannot be without 
O, how I rejoyce! More Women! 

Ferd. Sir, if you love you must be ty'd to one. 

Rip. Ty'd! How ty'd to her ? 

Ferd. To love none but her. 

Act III] The Enchanted Island 65 

Hip. But, Sir, I find it is against my Nature. 
I must love where I like, and I believe I may like all, 
All that are fair : come ! Bring me to this Woman, 
For I must have her. 

Ferd. His simplicity [Aside. 

Is such that I can scarce be angry with him. 
Perhaps, sweet Youth, when you behold her, 
You wiU find you do not love her. 

Hip. I find already I love, because she is another 

Ferd. You cannot love two Women, both at once. 

Hip. Sure 'tis my duty to love all who do 
Resemble her whom I've already seen. 
I'le have as many as I can, that are 
So good, and Angel-like, as she I love. 
And will have yours, 

Ferd. Pretty Youth, you cannot. 

Hip. I can do any thing for that I love. 

Ferd. I may, perhaps, by force restrain you from it. 

Hip. Why do so if you can. But either promise me 
To love no Woman, or you must try your force. 

Ferd. I cannot help it, I must love. 

Hip. WeU you may love, for Prospero taught me 
Friendship too: you shall love me and other men if 
you can find 'em, but all the Angel-women shall be mine. 

Ferd. I must break off this Conference, or he [Aside. 
WiU urge me else beyond what I can bear. 
Sweet Youth! Some other time we wiU speak further 
Concerning both our loves ; at present I 
Am indispos'd with weariness and grief, 
And would, if you are pleas'd, retire a while. 

Hip. Some other time be it ; but. Sir, remember 
That I both seek and much intreat your friendship. 
For next to Women, I find I can love you. 

Ferd. I thank you. Sir, I wiU consider of it. 

[Exit Ferdinand. 

66 The Tempest; or [Act iv 

Kip. This Stranger does insult, and comes into 
My world to take those Heavenly Beauties from me, 
WTiich I beheve I am inspir'd to love : 
And yet he said he did desire but one ; 
He would be poor in love, but I'le be rich. 
I now perceive that Pfospero was cunning; 
For when he frighted me from Woman-kind, 
Those precious things he for himself design'd. [Exit. 

Act IV. 

Enter Prospero and Miranda. 

Prosp. \/"OUR suit has pity in't, and has prevaU'd. 

X Within this Cave he lies, and you may see 
But yet take heed ; let Prudence be your Guide ; 
You must not stay, your visit must be short. 

[She's going. 
One thing I had forgot ; insinuate into his mind 
A kindness to that Youth, whom first you saw ; 
I would have Friendship grow betwixt 'em. 
Mir. You shall be obey'd in all things. 
Prosp. Be earnest to unite their very Souls. 
Mir. I shall endeavour it. 
Prosp. This may secure 
Hippolito from that dark danger which 
My Art forebodes ; for Friendship does provide 
A double strength t' oppose th' assaults of Fortune. 

[Exit Prospero. 
Enter Ferdinand. 
Ferd. To be a Pris'ner where I dearly love. 
Is but a double tye, a Link of Fortune, 
Joyn'd to the Chain of Love : but not to see her, 
And yet to be so near her, there's the hardship. 
I feel my self as on a Rack, stretch'd out. 

Act iv] The Enchanted Island 6j 

And nigh the ground, on which I might have ease. 
Yet cannot reach it. 

Mir. Sir ! My Lord ? Where are you ? 

Ferd. Is it your Voice, my Love ? Or do I dream ? 

Mir. Speak softly, it is I. 

Ferd. O Heavenly Creature ! 
Ten times more gentle, than your Father's cruel; 
How on a sudden aU. my griefs are vanish'd ! 

Mir. I come to help you to support your Griefs. 

Ferd. While I stand gazing thus, and thus have leave 
To touch your hand, I do not envy freedom. 

Mir. Hark! Hark! Is't not my Father's Voice I hear ? 
I fear he caUs me back again too soon. 

Ferd. Leave fear to guilty Minds : 'tis scarce a Virtue 
When it is paid to Heaven. 

Mir. But there 'tis mixed 
With love, and so is mine : yet I may fear ; 
For I am guilty when I disobey 
My Father's wiU in loving you too much. 

Ferd. But you please Heav'n in disobeying him, 
Heav'n bids you succour Captives in distress. 

Mir. How do you bear your Prison ? 

Ferd. 'Tis my Palace 
While you are here, and love and silence wait 
Upon our wishes ; do but think we chuse it, 
And 'tis what we would chuse. 

Mir. I'm sure what I would. 
But how can I be certain that you love me ? 
Look to't ; for I wiU dye when you are false. 
I've heard my Father tell of Maids, who dy'd. 
And haunted their false Lovers with their Ghosts. 

Ferd. Your Ghost must take another form to fright 
This shape wiU be too pleasing : do I love you ? 
O Heav'n ! O Earth ! Bear witness to this sound, 
If I prove false 

68 The Tempest ; or [Act iv 

Mir. Oh hold, you shall not swear ; 
For Heav'n will hate you if you prove forsworn. 

Fevd. Did I not love, I could no more endure 
This undeserved Captivity, then I 
Could wish to gain my Freedom with the loss of you, 

Mir. I am a Fool to weep at what Fm glad of : 
But I, Sir, have a suit to you, and that, 
Shall be the only tryal of your love. 

Ferd. Y'ave said enough, never to be deny'd, 
Were it my life ; for you have far o'rebid 
The price of all that humane life is worth. 

Mir. Sir, 'tis to love one for my sake. 
Who for his own deserves all the respect 
Which you can ever pay him. 

Ferd. You mean your Father: do not think his 
Can make me hate him ; when he gave you being, 
He then did that which cancell'd all these wrongs. 

Mir. I meant not him, for that was a request, 
Which if you love I should not need to urge. 

Ferd. Is there another whom I ought to love ? 
And love him for your sake ? 

Mir. Yes such a one. 
Who for his sweetness and his goodly shape, 
(If I, who am unskill'd in forms, may judge,) 
I think can scarce be equaU'd : 'tis a Youth, 
A Stranger too as you are. 

Ferd. Of such a graceful feature, and must I for your 
sake love ? 

Mir. Yes, Sir, do you scruple to grant the first 
request I ever made? He's wholly unacquainted with 
the World, and wants your Conversation. You should 
have compassion on so meer a stranger. 

Ferd. Those need compassion whom you discom- 
mend ; not whom you praise. 

Mir. I only ask this easie tryal of you. 

Act iv] The Enchanted Island 60 

Ferd,. Perhaps it might have easier bin if you had 
never ask'd it. 

Mir. I cannot understand \^ou; and methinks am 
To be more knowing. 

Ferd. He has his freedom, and may get access, 
When my confinement makes me want that blessing. 
I his compassion need, and not he mine. 

Mir. If that be all you doubt, trust me for him. 
He has a melting heart, and soft to all the Seals 
Of kindness ; I will undertake for his Compassion. 

Ferd. O Heavens ! Would I were sure I did not need it. 

Mir. Come, you must love him for my sake: vou 

Ferd. Must I for yours, and cannot for my own? 
Either you do not love, or think that I do not : 
But when you bid me love him, I must hate him. 

Mir. Have I so far offended you already, 
That he offends you only for my sake ? 
Yet sure you would not hate him, if you saw 
Him as I've done, so fuU of youth and beauty. 

Ferd. O poyson to my hopes ! \Aside. 

When he did visit me, and I did mention 
This Beauteous Creature to him, he did then 
TeU me he would have her. 

Mir. Alas, what mean you ? 

Ferd. It is too plain : like most of her frail Sex, 
She's false, but has not learnt the art to hide it ; [Aside. 
Nature has done her part, she loves variety. 
Why did I think that any Woman could 
Be innocent, because she's young ? No, no, 
Their Nurses teach them Change, 
When with two Nipples they divide their Liking. 

Mir. I fear I have offended you, and yet 

I meant no harm : but if you please to hear me 

[A Noise within. 

70 The Tempest i or [Act iv 

Heark, Sir, now I am sure my Father comes, 
I know his steps ; dear Love retire a while, 
I fear I've stay'd too long. 

Ferd. Too long indeed. 
And yet not long enough : Oh Jealousie ! 
Oh Love ! How you distract me ? \Exit Ferdinand. 

Mir. He appears 
Displeas'd with that young Man, I know not why : 
But, till I find from whence his hate proceeds, 
I must conceal it from my Father's knowledge; 
For he will think that guiltless I have caus'd it ; 
And suffer me no more to see my Love. 
Enter Prospero. 

Prosp. Now I have been indulgent to your wish. 
You have seen the Prisoner ? 

Mir. Yes. 

Prosp. And he spake to you ? 

Mir. He spoke; but he receiv'd short answers from 

Prosp. How like you his converse ? 

Mir. At second sight 
A Man does not appear so rare a Creature. 

Prosp. Aside. I find she loves him much because she 
hides it. 
Love teaches cunning even to Innocence ; 
And where he gets possession, his first work 
Is to dig deep within a heart, and there 
Lie hid, and like a Miser in the dark 
To feast alone. But tell me, dear Miranda, 
How does he suffer his imprisonment ? 

Mir. I think he seems displeas'd. 

Prosp. O then 'tis plain 
His temper is not noble, for the brave 
With equal Minds bear good and evil Fortune. 

Mir. O, Sir, but he's pleas'd again so soon 
That 'tis not worth your noting. 

Act iv] The Enchanted Island 71 

Prosp. To be soon 
Displeas'd and pleas'd so suddenly again, 
Does shew him of a various froward nature. 

Mir. The truth is. Sir, he was not vex'd at all. 
But only seem'd to be so. 

Prosp. If he be not 
And yet seems angry, he is a dissembler, 
Which shews the worst of Natures. 

Mir. Truly, Sir, 
The Man has faults enough ; but in my conscience 
That's none of 'em. He can be no dissembler. 

Prosp. Aside. How she excuses him, and yet desires 
That I should judge her heart indifferent to him ? 
Well, since his faults are many, I am glad 
You love him not. 

Mir. 'Tis hke. Sir, they are many ; 
But I know none he has : yet let me often 
See him, and I shall find 'em all in time. 

Prosp. I'le think on't. 
Go in, this is your hour of Orizons. 

Mir. Aside. Forgive me,Truth, for thus disguising thee ; 
If I can make him think I do not love 
The stranger much, he'll let me see him oftner. 

[Exit Miranda. 

Prosp. Stay! Stay 1 had forgot to ask her 

What she has said of young Hippolito : 

Oh ! Here he comes I And with him my Dorinda. 

I'le not be seen, let their loves grow in secret. 

[Exit Prospero. 
Enter Hippohto and Dorinda. 

Hip. But why are you so sad ? 

Dor. But why are you so joyful? 

Hip. 1 have within me all the various Musick of the 
Since last I saw you I have heard brave news ! 
I'le tell it you, and make you joyful for me. 

72 The Tempest ; or [Act rv 

Dor. Sir, when I saw you first, I through my Eyes 
Drew Something in, I know not what it is ; 
But still it entertains me with such thoughts 
As makes me doubtful whether joy becomes me. 

Rip. Pray believe me ; 
As I'm a Man, I'le tell you blessed news. 
I have heard there are more Women in the World, 
As fair as you are too. 

Dor. Is this your news ? You see it moves not me. 

Kip. And I'le have 'em all. 

Dor. What will become of me then ? 

Hip. I'le have you too. 
But are not you acquainted with these Women ? 

Dor. I never saw but one, 

H.ip. Is there but one here ? 
This is a base poor World ; I'le go to th' other ; 
I've heard Men have abundance of 'em there. 
But pray where's that one Woman ? 

Dor. Who, my Sister ? 

Eip. Is she your Sister ? I'm glad o' that : you shall 
help me to her, and I'le love you for't. 

{Offers to take her hand. 

Dor. Away! I will not have you touch my hand. 
My Father's counsel which enjoyn'd reservedness, 
Was not in vain I see. [Aside. 

Hip. What makes you shun me ? 

Dor. You need not care, you'l have my Sisters hand. 

Hip. Why, must not he who touches hers touch 
yours ? 

Dor. You mean to love her too. 

Hip. Do not you love her ? 
Then why should not I do so ? 

Dor. She is my Sister, and therefore I must love her : 
But you cannot love both of us. 

Hip. I warrant you I can : 
Oh that you had more Sisters ! 

Act iv] The Enchanted Island 73 

Bor. You may love her, 
But then lie not love you. 

Ri-p. O but you must ; 
One is enough for you, but not for me. 

Dor. My Sister told me she had seen another ; 
A Man like you, and she Uk'd only him ; 
Therefore if one must be enough for her, 
He is that one, and then you cannot have her. 

Kip. If she like him, she may like both of us. 

Boy. But how if I should change and like that Man ? 
Would you be wilhng to permit that change ? 

Rip. No, for you lik'd me first. 

Dor. So you did me. 

mp. But I would never have you see that man; 
I cannot bear it. 

Dor. I'le see neither of you. 

Hip. Yes, me you may, for we are now acquainted; 
But he's the Man of whom your Father warn'd you. 
O! He's a terrible, huge, monstrous Creature, 
I'm but a Woman to him. 

Dor. I wiU see him, 
Except you'l promise not to see my Sister. 

Rip. Yes for your sake I needs must see your Sister. 

Dor. But she's a terrible, huge Creature too ; 
If I were not her Sister she would eat me ; 
Therefore take heed. 

Rip. I heard that she was fair. 
And hke you. 

Dor. No, indeed, she's like my Father, 
With a great Beard ; 'twould fright you to look on her, 
Therefore that Man and she may go together. 
They're fit for no body but one another. 

Rip. Looking in. Yonder he comes with glaring eyes, 

fly! fly! 

Before he sees you. 

Dor. Must we part so soon ? 

74 The Tempest ; or [Act iv 

Kip. Y'are a lost Woman if you see him. 

Dor. I would not willingly be lost, for fear you 
Should not find me. I'le avoid him. \E%it Dorinda. 

Rip. She fain would have deceived me ; but I know 
Her Sister must be fair, for she's a Woman. 
All of a Kind that I have seen are Uke 
To one another : aU the Creatures of 
The Rivers and the Woods are so. 
Enter Ferdinand. 

FerA. O ! Well encounter'd, you are the happy Man ! 
Y' have got the hearts of both the beauteous Women. 

Rip. How! Sir? Pray, are you sure on't? 

Ferd. One of 'em charg'd me to love you for her sake. 

Rip. Then I must have her. 

Ferd. No, not till I am dead. 

Rip. How dead ? What's that ? But whatsoe're it be 
I long to have her. 

Ferd. Time and my grief may make me dye. 

Rip. But for a Friend you should make haste; 
I ne're ask'd any thing of you before. 

Ferd. I see your Ignorance ; 
And therefore wiU instruct you in my meaning. 
The Woman, whom I love, saw you and lov'd you. 
Now, Sir, if you love her you'l cause my death. 

Rip. Be sure I'le do't then. 

Ferd. But I am your Friend ; 
And I request you that you would not love her. 

Rip. When Friends request unreasonable things. 
Sure th'are to be deny'd : you say she's fair. 
And I must love aU who are fair ; for to tell 
You a secret, which I've lately found 
Within my self ; they all are made for me. 

Ferd. That's but a fond conceit : you're made for one, 
And one for you. 

Rip. You cannot tell me. Sir. 
I know I'm made for twenty hundred Women : 

Act iv] The Enchanted Island y^ 

(I mean if there so many be i' th' World ;) 
So that if once I see her I shall love her. 

Ferd. Then do not see her. 

Hip. Yes, Sir, I must see her. 
For I wou'd fain have my heart beat again. 
Just as it did when I first saw her Sister. 

Ferd. I find I must not let you see her then. 

Hip. How wUl you hinder me ? 

Ferd. By force of Arms. 

Hip. By force of Arms ? 
My Arms perhaps may be as strong as yours. 

Ferd. He's stiU so ignorant that I pity him, and fain 

Would avoid force: pray, do not see her. 
She was mine first ; you have no right to her. 

Hip. I have not yet consider'd what is Right, 
But, Sir, I know my inclinations are 
To love aU Women : and I have been taught 
That to dissemble what I think, is base. 
In honour then of Truth, I must declare 
That I do love, and I wiU see your Woman. 

Ferd. Wou'd you be willing I should see and love 
Your Woman, and endeavour to seduce her 
From that affection which she vow'd to you? 

Hip. I wou'd not you should do it ; but if she 
Should love you best, I cannot hinder her. 
But, Sir, for fear she shou'd, I will provide 
Against the worst, and try to get your Woman. 

Ferd. But I pretend no claim at all to yours ; 
Besides you are more beautiful than I, 
And fitter to allure unpractis'd hearts. 
Therefore I once more beg you will not see her. 

Hip. I'm glad you let me know I have such 
If that will get me Women, they shall have it 
As far as e're 'twill go : I'le never want 'em. 

76 The Tempest ; or [Act iv 

FerA. Then since you have refused this act of friend- 
Provide your self a Sword ; for we must fight. 

Rip. A Sword, what's that ? 

Ferd. Why such a thing as this. 

Rip. What should I do with it ? 

Ferd. You must stand thus, 
And push against me, while I push at you. 
Till one of us fall dead. 

Rip. This is brave sport : 
But we have no Swords growing in our World. 

FevA. What shall we do then to decide our quarrel ? 

Rip. We'll take the Sword by turns, and fight with it. 

Ferd. Strange ignorance ! You must defend your Life, 
And so must I : but since you have no Sword 
Take this; for in a Corner of my Cave 

\_Gives him his Sword. 
I found a rusty one : perhaps 'twas his 
Who keeps me Pris'ner here : that I will fit : 
When next we meet prepare your self to fight. 

Rip. Make haste then, this shall ne're be yours agen. 
I mean to fight with all the men I meet. 
And when they're dead, their Women shall be mine. 

Ferd. I see you are unskilful; I desire not 
To take your Life : but if you please we'll fight 
On these conditions ; He who first draws bloud, 
Or who can take the others Weapon from him, 
Shall be acknowledg'd as the Conquerour, 
And both the Women shall be his. 

Hip. Agreed: 
And ev'ry day I'le fight for two more with you. 

Ferd. But win these first. 

Rip. I'le warrant you I'le push you. 

[Exeunt severally. 
Enter Trincalo, Caliban, Sycorax. 

Calih. My Lord, I see 'em coming yonder. 

Act ivj The Enchanted Island jj 

Trine. Who? 

Calih. The starv'd Prince, and his two thirsty Sub- 
jects, that would have our Liquor. 

Trine. If thou wert a Monster of parts I would 
make thee my Master of Ceremonies, to conduct 'em in. 
The Devil take all Dunces ; thou hast lost a brave Em- 
ployment by not being a Linguist, and for want of be- 

Syc. My Lord, shall I go meet 'em ? I'le be kind to aU 
of 'em, just as I am to thee. 

Trine. No, that's against the fundamental Laws of 
my Dukedom: you are in a high place. Spouse, and 
must give good Example. Here they come, we'll put 
on the gravity of Statesmen, and be very dull, that we 
may be held wise. 

Enter Stephano, Ventoso, Mustacho. 

Vent. Duke Trincalo, we have consider'd. 

Trine. Peace, or War ? 

Must. Peace, and the Butt. 

Staph. I come now as a private person, and promise 
to live peaceably under your Government. 

Trine. You shall enjoy the benefits of Peace; and 
the first Fruits of it, amongst aU civil Nations, is to be 
drunk for joy : Caliban skink about. 

Steph. I long to have a Rowse to her Graces health, 
and to the Haunse in Kelder; or rather Haddoek in 
Kelder, for I guess it wiU be half Fish. [Aside. 

Trine. Subject Stephano here's to thee; and let old 
quarrels be drown'd in this draught. [Drinks. 

Steph. Great Magistrate, here's thy Sister's health to 
thee. [Drinks to Caliban. 

Syc. He shall not drink of that immortal liquor, my 
Lord, let him drink water. 

Trine. O sweet heart, you must not shame your self 
to day. Gentlemen Subjects, pray bear with her good 
Huswifry : She wants a little breeding, but she's hearty. 

78 The Tempest y or [Act iv 

Must. Ventoso here's to thee. Is it not better to 
pierce the Butt, than to quarrel and pierce one anothers 
bellies ? 

Vent. Let it come Boy. 

Trine. Now wou'd I lay greatness aside, and shake 
my heels, if I had but Musick. 

Calib. O my Lord! My Mother left us in her Will a 

hundred Spirits to attend us ; Devils of all sorts, some 

great roaring Devils, and some Uttle singing Sprights. 

Syc. Shall we caU ? and thou shalt hear them in the 


Trine. I accept the motion : let us have our Mother- 
in-Law's Legacy immediately. 
Calib. sings. 

We want Musick, we want Mirth, 
Up Dam and cleave the Earth : 
We have now no Lords that wrong us. 
Send thy merry Sprights among us. 

[Musick heard. 
Trine. What a merry Tyrant am I, to have my 
Musick and pay nothing for't? Come, hands, hands, 
let's lose no time while the DevU's in the Humour, 

[A Dance. 
Trine. Enough, enough : now to our Sack agen. 
Vent. The Bottle's drunk. 

Must. Then the Bottle's a weak shallow Fellow, if it 
be drunk first. 

Trine. Caliban, give Bottle the belly full agen. 

[Exit Caliban.J 

Steph. May I ask your Grace a question? Pray is 

that Hectoring Spark, as you call'd him, flesh or fish? 

Trine. Subject I know not, but he drinks like a Fish. 

Enter Caliban. 
Steph. O here's the Bottle agen; he has made a 
good Voyage: come, who begins a Brindis to the 
Duke ? 

Act iv] 'The Enchanted Island 79 

Trine. I'le begin it my self: give me the Bottle; 
'tis my Prerogative to drink first. Stephana, give me thy 
hand; thou hast been a Rebel, but here's to thee: 
prithee why should we quarrel? Shall I swear two 
Oaths ? By Bottle, and by Butt I love thee : In witness 
whereof I drink soundly. {Drinks. 

Steph. Your Grace shall find there's no love lost. 
For I will pledge you soundly. 

Trine. Thou hast been a false Rebel, but that's all 
one ; Pledge my Grace faithfully. 

Steph. I will pledge your Grace Up se Dutch. 

Trine. But thou shalt not pledge me before I have 
drunk agen ; would'st thou take the Liquor of Life out 
of my hands? I see thou art a piece of a Rebel still, 
but here's to thee, now thou shalt have it. 

[Stephano drinks. 

Vent. We loyal Subjects may be choak'd for any 
drink we can get. 

Trine. Have patience good people; you are un- 
reasonable, you'd be drunk as soon as I. Ventoso you 
shall have your time, but you must give place to 

Must. Brother Ventoso, I am afraid we shaU lose 
our Places. The Duke grows fond of Stephano, and wiU 
declare him Vice-Roy. 

Steph. I ha' done my worst at your Graces Bottle. 

Trine. Then the Folks may have it. Caliban go to 
the Butt, and teU me how it sounds. [Exit Caliban.] 
Peer Stephano, dost thou love me ? 

Steph. I Love your Grace and all your Princely 

Trine. 'Tis no matter if thou lov'st me; hang mj^ 
Family : thou art my Friend, prithee tell me what thou 
think' st of my Princess? 

Steph. I look on her as a very Noble Princess. 

Trine. Noble ! Indeed she had a Witch to her Mother, 

So The Tempest ; or [Act iv 

and the Witches are of great Families in Lapland ; but 
the Devil was her Father, and I have heard of the 
Mounsor De-Viles in France ; but look on her Beauty, is 
she a fit Wife for Duke Trincalo ? Mark her Behaviour 
too, she's tippling yonder with the Serving-Men. 

Steph. An please your Grace she's somewhat homely ; 
but that's no blemish in a Princess : She is Virtuous. 

Trine. Umph! Virtuous! I am loth to disparage 
her: but thou art my Friend, can'st thou be 
close ? 

Steph. As a stopt Bottle, an 't please your Grace. 
Enter Caliban agen with a Bottle. 

Trine. Why then I'll tell thee, I found her an hour 
ago under an Elder Tree, upon a sweet Bed of Nettles, 
singing Tory, Rory, and Ranthum, Scantum, with her 
own natural Brother. 

Steph. O Jew ! Make Love in her own Tribe ! 

Trine. But 'tis no matter ; to tell thee true, I marry'd 
her to be a great man and so forth : but make no words 
on 't, for I care not who knows it ; and so here's to thee 
agen : give me the Bottle, Caliban ! Did you knock the 
Butt ? How does it sound ? 

Calih. It sounds as though it had a noise within. 

Trine. I fear the Butt begins to rattle in the Throat, 
and is departing : give me the Bottle. [Drinks. 

Must. A short Life and a merry, I say. 

[Stephano whispers Sycorax. 

Syc. But did he tell you so ? 

Steph. He said you were as ugly as your Mother, and 
that he Marry'd you only to get Possession of the 

Syc. My Mothers Devils fetch him for 't. 

Steph. And your Father's too; hem! Skink about 
his Grace's Health agen. O if you would but cast an 
Eye of pity upon me 

Syc. I will cast two Eyes of pity on thee, I love thee 

Act iv] The Enchanted Island 8i 

more than Haws, or Black-Berries ; I have a hoard of 
Wildings in the Moss, my Brother knows not of 'em, but 
I'le bring thee where they are. 

Steph. Trincalo was but my Man when time was. 

Syc. Wert thou his God, and didst thou give him 
Liquor ? 

Steph. I gave him Brandy, and drunk Sack my self : 
wilt thou leave him, and thou shalt be my Princess? 

Syc. If thou canst make me glad with this Liquor. 

Steph. I warrant thee, we'll ride into the Country 
where it grows. 

Syc. How wilt thou carry me thither ? 

Steph. Upon a Hackney-Devil of thy Mothers. 
• Trine. What's that you will do ? Hah ! I hope you 
have not betray'd me ? How does my Pigs-nye ? 

\To Sycorax. 

Syc. Be gone! Thou shalt not be my Lord; thou 
say'st I'm ugly. 

Trine. Did you tell her so — Hah ! He's a Rogue, do 
not believe him Chuck. 

Steph. The foul Words were yours : I will not eat 
'em for you. 

Trine. I see if once a Rebel, then ever a Rebel. Did 
I receive thee into grace for this? I will correct thee 
with my Royal Hand. [Strikes Stephano. 

Syc. Dost thou hurt my Love ? [Flies at Trincalo. 

Trine. Where are our Guards ? Treason, Treason ! 

[Ventoso, Mustacho, Caliban run betwixt. 

Vent. Who took up Arms first, the Prince or the 
People ? 

Trine. This false Tray tor has corrupted the Wife of 
my Bosom. [Whispers Mustacho hastily. 

Mustacho strike on my side, and thou shalt be my Vice- 

Must. I'm against Rebels ! Ventoso, obey your Vice- 

82 The Tempest; or [Act iv 

Vent. You a Vice-Roy ? 

\T'hey two Fight off from the rest. 
Steph. Hah ! Hector Monster ! Do you stand neuter ? 
Calih. Thou would'st drink my Liquor, I will not 
help thee. 

Syc. 'Twas his doing that I had such a Husband, but 
I'll claw him. 

[Sycorax and Caliban Fight ; Sycorax beating 
him off the Stage. 
Trine. The whole Nation is up in Arms, and shall I 
stand idle ? 

[Trincalo beats off Stephano to the door. 
Exit Stephano. 
I'le not pursue too far. 

For fear the Enemy should rally agen and surprise my 
Butt in the Citadel. Well, I must be rid of my Lady 
Trincalo, she will be in the fashion else; first Cuckold 
her Husband, and then sue for a Separation, to get 
Alimony. [Exit. 

Enter Ferdinand, Hippolito, with their Swords drawn. 
Ferd. Come, Sir, our Cave affords no choice of place, 
But the ground's firm and even : are you ready ? 
Hip. As ready as your self. Sir. 
Ferd. You remember on what conditions we must 
Who first receives a Wound is to submit. 

Hip. Come, come, this loses time; now for the 
Women, Sir. [They fight a little, Ferdinand hurts him. 
Ferd. Sir, you are wounded. 
Hip. No. 

Ferd. Believe your blood. 
Hip. I feel no hurt, no imatter for my blood. 
Ferd. Remember our Conditions. 
Hip. I'le not leave, till my Sword hits you too. 

[Hippolito presses on, Ferdinand retires and 

Act iv] The Enchanted Island 83 

Ferd. I'm loth to kill you, you're unskilful, Sir. 

Hip. You beat aside my Sword, but let it come 
As near as yours, and you shall see my skiU. 

Ferd. You faint for loss of blood, I see you stagger, 
Pray, Sir, retire. 

Hip. No! I will ne're go back — — 
Methinks the Cave turns round, I cannot find — 

Ferd. Your Eyes begin to dazle. 

Hip. Why do you swim so, and dance about me ? 
Stand but still till I have made one thrust. 

[Hippolito thrusts and falls. 

Ferd. O help, help, help ! 
Unhappy Man ! What have I done ? 

Hip. I'm going to a cold sleep, but when I wake 
I'U fight agen. Pray stay for me. [S wounds. 

Ferd. He's gone ! He's gone ! O stay sweet lovely 
Help, help! 

Enter Prospero. 

Prosp. What dismal noise is that ? 

Ferd. O see. Sir, see! 
What mischief my unhappy hand has wrought. 

Prosp. Alas! How much in vain doth feeble Art 
Endeavour to resist the will of Heaven ? 

[Rubs Hippolito. 
He's gone for ever ; O thou cruel Son 
Of an Inhumane Father ! All my designs 
Are ruin'd and unravell'd by this blow. 
No pleasure now is left me but Revenge. 

Ferd. Sir, if you knew my Innocence 

Prosp. Peace, peace. 
Can' thy excuses give me back his Life ? 
What Ariel! sluggish Spirit, where art thou? 

Enter Ariel. 

Ariel. Here, at thy beck, my Lord. 

Prosp. I, now thou com'st. 

84 The Tempest I or [Act iv 

When Fate is past and not to be recall'd. 
Look there, and glut the Malice of thy Nature ; 
For as thou art thy self, thou canst not be 
But glad to see young Virtue nipt i' th' Blossom. 

Ariel. My Lord, the Being high above can witness 
I am not glad : we Airy Spirits are not 
Of temper so malicious as the Earthy, 
But of a Nature more approaching good : 
For which we meet in swarms, and often Combat 
Betwixt the Confines of the Air and Earth. 

Prosp. Why did'st thou not prevent, at least foretell, 
This fatal action then ? 

Ariel. Pardon, great Sir, 
I meant to do it, but I was forbidden 
By the ill Genius of Hippolito, 
Who came and threatn'd me if I disclos'd it, 
To bind me in the bottom of the Sea, 
Far from the lightsome Regions of the Air, 
(My native Fields) above a hundred Years. 

Prosp. ni chain thee in the North for thy neglect. 
Within the burning Bowels of Mount Hecla ; 
I'U sindge thy airy Wings with sulph'rous Flames, 
And choak thy tender Nostrils with blew Smoak : 
At ev'ry Hick-up of the belching Mountain 
Thou shalt be lifted up to taste fresh Air, 
And then fall down agen. 

Ariel. Pardon, dread Lord. 

Prosp. No more of Pardon than just Heav'n intends 
Shalt thou e're find from me : hence ! Flye with speed. 
Unbind the Charms which hold this Murtherer's 

And bring him with my Brother streight before me. 

Ariel. Mercy, my potent Lord, and Tie outfly 
Thy thought. [Exit Ariel. 

Ferd. O Heavens ! What words are those I heard ? 

Act iv] The Enchanted Island 85 

Yet cannot see who spoke 'em : sure the Woman 
Whom I lov'd was Uke this, some aiery Vision. 

Prosp. No, Murd'rer, she's hke thee, of mortal mould, 
But much too pure to mix with thy black Crimes ; 
Yet she had faults and must be punish'd for 'em. 
Miranda and Dorinda ! where are ye ? 
The Will of Heaven's accomplish'd : I have now 
No more to fear, and nothing left to hope. 
Now you may enter. 

Enter Miranda and Dorinda. 

Mir. My Love ! Is it permitted me' to see 
You once again ? 

Prosp. You come to look your last ; 
I wiU for ever take him from your Eyes. 
But, on my Blessing, speak not, nor approach him. 

Dor. Pray, Father is not this my Sisters Man ? 
He has a noble form ; but yet he's not 
So excellent as my Hippolito. 

Prosp. Alas poor Girl, thou hast no man: look 
yonder ; 
There's aU of him that's left. 

Dor. WTiy was there ever any more of him ? 
He Hes asleep, Sir, shall I waken him ? 

[She kneels by Hippolito, and jogs him. 

Ferd. Alas! He's never to be wak'd agen. 

Dor. My Love, my Love ! WiU you not speak to me ? 
I fear you have displeas'd him. Sir, and now 
He will not answer me ; he's dumb and cold too, 
But I'le run streight, and make a fire to warm him. 

[Exit Dorinda running. 

Enter Alonzo, Gonzalo, Antonio. Ariel {invisible). 

Alonz. Never were Beasts so hunted into toyls, 
As we have been pursu'd by dreadful shapes. 
But is not that my Son ? O Ferdinand ! 
If thou art not a Ghost, let me embrace thee. 

Ferd. My Father ! O sinister happiness ! 

86 The Tempest ; or [Act iv 

Is it decreed I should recover you 

Alive, just in that fatal hour when this 

Brave Youth is lost in Death, and by my hand ? 

Ant. Heaven! What new wonder's this? 

Gonz. This Isle is full of nothing else. 

Alonz. I thought to dye, and in the Walks above, 
Wand'ring by Star-light, to have sought thee out ; 
But now I should have gone to Heaven in vain, 
Whilst thou art here behind. 

Ferd. You must indeed 
In vain have gone thither to look for me. 
Those who are stain'd with such black crimes as mine. 
Come seldom there. 

Prosp. And those who are like him, all foul with guUt, 
More seldom upward go. You stare upon me as 
You n'ere had seen me ; Have fifteen Years 
So lost me to your Knowledge, that you retain 
No Memory of Prospero ? 

Gonz. The good old Duke of Millain ! 

Prosp. I wonder less, that thou Antonio know'st me 
Because thou did'st long since forget I was 
Thy Brother, else I never had bin here. 

Ant. Shame choaks my words. 

Alonz. And wonder mine. 

Prosp. For you, usurping Prince, \To Alonzo. 

Know, by my Art, you Shipwrackt on this Isle, 
Where, after I a while had punish'd you. 
My Vengeance wou'd have ended ; I design'd 
To match that Son of yours with this my Daughter. 

Alonz. Pursue it still, I am most willing to't. 

Prosp. So am not I. No Marriages can prosper 
Which are with Murd'rers made ; look on that Corps, 
This, whilst he liv'd, was young Hippolito, 
That Infant Duke of Mantua, Sir, whom you 
Expos' d with me ; and here I bred him up 

Act iv] The Enchanted Island 87 

Till that Blood-thirsty Man, that Ferdinand 

But why do I exclaim on him, when Justice 
Calls to unsheath her Sword against his guilt ? 

Alonz. What do you mean ? 

Prosp. To execute Heav'ns Laws. 
Here I am plac'd by Heav'n, here I am Prince, 
Though you have dispossess'd me of my Millain. 
Blood caUs for blood ; your Ferdinand shall die : 
And I in bitterness have sent for you 
To have the sudden joy of seeing him alive. 
And then the greater grief to see him dye. 

Alonz. And think'st thou I or these wiU tamely stand 
To view the Execution ? {Lays hand upon his Sword. 

Ferd. Hold, dear Father! 
I cannot suffer you t' attempt against 
His Life who gave her being whom I love. 

Prosp. Nay then appear my Guards 1 thought no 

To use their aids ; (I'm curs'd because I us'd it) 

{He stamps, and many Spirits appear. 
But they are now the Ministers of Heaven, 
Whilst I revenge this Murder. 

Alonz. Have I for this 
Found thee my Son, so soon agen to lose thee ! 
Antonio, Gonzalo, speak for pity : 
He may hear you. 

Ant. I dare not draw that blood 
Upon my self, by interceding for him. 

Gonz. You drew this judgment down when you 
That Dukedom which was this dead Prince's right. 

Alonz. Is this a time t' upbraid me with my sins. 
When Grief lies heavy on me ? Y' are no more 
My Friends, but crueller than he, whose Sentence 
Has doom'd my Son to Death. 

Ant. You did unworthily t' upbraid him. 

88 Th6 Tempest ; or [Act iv 

Gonz. And you do worse t' endure his crimes. 

Ant. Gonzalo we'll meet no more as Friends. 

Gonz. Agreed Antonio : and we agree in discord. 

Ferd. to Mir. Adieu my fairest Mistress. 

Mir. Now I can hold no longer ; I must speak. 
Though I am loth to disobey you, Sir, 
Be not so cruel to the Man I love. 
Or be so kind to let me suffer with him. 

Ferd. Recall that Pray'r, or I shall wish to Hve, 
Though death be all the mends that I can make. 

Prosp. This night I will allow you, Ferdinand, 
To fit you for your Death, that Cave's your Prison. 

Alonz. Ah, Prospero I Hear me speak : You are a 
Look on my Age, and look upon his Youth. 

Prosp. No more! All you can say is urg'd in vain, 
I have no room for pity left within me. 
Do you refuse! Help Ariel with your Fellows 
To drive 'em in : Alonzo and his Son 
Bestow in yonder Cave, and here Gonzalo 
Shall with Antonio lodge. 

[Spirits drive 'em in, as they are appointed. 
Enter Dorinda. 

Dor. Sir, I have made a fire, shall he be warm'd ? 

Prosp. He's dead, and vital warmth will ne'er return. 

Dor. Dead, Sir, what's that ? 

Prosp. His Soul has left his Body. 

Dor. When will it come agen ? 

Prosp. O never, never! 
He must be laid in Earth, and there consume. 

Dor. He shall not lye in Earth, you do not know 
How well he loves me : indeed he'l come agen ; 
He told me he would go a little while. 
But promis'd me he would not tarry long. 

Prosp. He's murder'dby the Man who lov'dyour Sister. 
Now both of you may see what 'tis to break 

Act iv] The Enchanted Island 89 

A Father's Precept ; you would needs see Men, 
And by that sight are made for ever wretched. 
Hippolito is dead, and Ferdinand must dye 
For murdering him. 

Mir. Have you no pity ? 

Prosp. Your disobedience has so much incens'd me. 
That I this night can leave no blessing with you. 
Help to convey the body to my Couch, 
Then leave me to mourn over it alone. 

[They bear off the Body of Hippolito. 
Enter Miranda, and Dorinda again. Ariel 
behind 'em. 

Ariel. I've bin so chid for my neglect by Prospero, 
That I must now watch all and be unseen. 

Mir. Sister, I say agen, 'twas long of you 
That all this mischief happen'd. 

Dor. Blame not me 
For your own fault, your Curiosity 
Brought me to see the Man. 

Mir. You safely might 
Have seen him and retir'd, but you wou'd needs 
Go near him and converse : you may remember 
My Father call'd me thence, and I call'd you. 

Dor. That was your envy. Sister, not your love ; 
You caU'd me thence, because you could not be 
Alone with him your self ; but I am sure 
My Man had never gone to Heaven so soon. 
But that yours made him go. [Crying. 

Mir. Sister I could not wish that either of 'em 
Shou'd go to Heaven without us ; but it was 
His Fortune, and you must be satisfi'd ? 

Dor. I'le not be satisfi'd : my Father says 
He'll make your Man as cold as mine is now ; 
And when he is made cold, my Father will 
Not let you strive to make him warm agen. 

Mir. In spight of you mine never shall be cold. 

90 The Tempest; or [Act iv 

Dor. I'm sure 'twas he that made me miserable ; 
And I will be reveng'd. Perhaps you think 'tis 
Nothing to lose a Man. 

Mir. Yes, but there is some difference betwixt 
My Ferdinand, and your Hippolito. 

Dor. I, there's your judgment. Your's is the oldest 
I ever saw, except it were my Father. 

Mir. Sister, no more : It is not comely in 
A Daughter, when she says her Father's old. 

Dor. But why do I stay here, whilst my cold Love 
Perhaps may want me ? 
I'le pray my Father to make yours cold too. 

Mir. Sister, I'le never sleep with you agen. 

Dor. I'le never more meet in a Bed with you. 
But lodge on the bare ground, and watch my Love. 

Mir. And at the entrance of that Cave I'le lye. 
And eccho to each blast of wind a sigh. 

[Exeunt severally, looking discontentedly on one 

Ariel. Harsh discord reigns throughout this fatal Isle, 
At which good Angels mourn, ill Spirits smile. 
Old Prospero, by his Daughters rob'd of rest. 
Has in displeasure left 'em both unblest. 
Unkindly they abjure each others Bed, 
To save the Living, and revenge the dead. 
Alonzo and his Son are Pris'ners made. 
And good Gonzalo does their Crimes upbraid. 
Antonio and Gonzalo disagree. 
And wou'd, though in one Cave, at distance be. 
The vSeamen all that cursed Wine have spent, 
WTiich still renew'd their thirst of Government ; 
And, wanting Subjects for the food of Pow'r, 
Each wou'd to rule alone the rest devour. 
The Monsters Sycora,x and Caliban 
More monstrous grow by Passions learn'd from Man. 

Act v] The Enchanted Island 91 

Even I not fram'd of warring Elements, 
Partake and suffer in these discontents. 
Why shou'd a mortal by Enchantments hold 
In Chains a Spirit of setherial mould? 
Accursed Magick we our selves have taught ; 
And our own Pow'r has our Subjection wrought ! 


Act V. 

Enter Prospero and Miranda. 

Prosp. 'VT'OU beg in vain ; I cannot Pardon him, 
JL He has offended Heaven. 

Mir. Then let Heaven punish him. 

Prosp. It will by me. 

Mir. Grant him at least some respite for my sake. 

Prosp. 1 by deferring Justice should incense 
The Deity against my self and you. 

Mir. Yet I have heard you say, the Powers above 
Are slow in punishing ; and shou'd not you 
Resemble them ? 

Prosp. The Powers above may Pardon or Reprieve, 
As Sovereign Princes may dispense with Laws, 
Which we, as Officers, must Execute. 
Our Acts of Grace to Criminals are Treason 
To Heavens Prerogative. 

Mir. Do you condemn him for shedding Blood ? 

Prosp. Why do you ask that question ? 
You know I do. 

Mir. Then you must be condemn'd for shedding his, 
And he who condemns you, must dye for shedding yours. 
And that's the way at last to leave none living. 

Prosp. The Argument is weak, but I want time 

To let you see your errours 

Retire, and, if you love him, pray for him. [He's going. 

Mir. O stay. Sir, I have yet more Arguments. 

92 The Tempest j or [Act v 

Prosp. But none of any weight. 

Mir. Have you not said you are his Judge ? 

Prosp. 'Tis true, I am ; what then ? 

Mir. And can you be his Executioner ? 
If that be so, then all Men may declare 
Their Enemies in fault ; and Pow'r without 
The Sword of Justice, will presume to punish 
What e're it calls a Crime. 

Prosp. I cannot force Gonzalo or my Brother, 
Much less the Father to destroy the Son ; 
It must be then the Monster Caliban, 
And he's not here, but Ariel strait shall fetch him. 

Enter Ariel. 

Ariel. My potent Lord, before thou call'st, I come. 
To serve thy will. 

Prosp. Then Spirit fetch me here my salvage Slave. 

Ariel. My Lord, it does not need. 

Prosp. Art thou then prone to mischief, wilt thou 
Thy self the Executioner ? 

Ariel. Think better of thy aiery Minister, 
Who for thy sake, unbid, this night has flown 
O're almost all the habitable World. 

Prosp. But to what purpose was aU thy diligence ? 

Ariel. When I was chidden by my mighty Lord 
For my neglect of young Hippolito, 
I went to view his Body, and soon found 
His Soul was but retir'd, not saUy'd out. 
And frighted lay at skulk in th' inmost corner 
Of his scarce-beating heart. 

Prosp. Is he not dead ? 

Ariel. Hear me my Lord! 
I prun'd my Wings, and fitted for a Journey, 
From the next Isles of our Hesperides 
I gather'd Moly first, thence shot my self 

Act v] The Enchanted Island 93 

To Palestine, and watch' d the trickhng Balm, 
Which caught, I gUded to the British Isles. 
And there the purple Panacea found. 

Prosp. All this to night ? 

Ariel. All this, my Lord, I did ; 
Nor was Hippolito's good Angel wanting. 
Who climbing up the Circle of the Moon, 
While I below got Simples for the Cure, 
Went to each Planet which o're-rul'd those Herbs, 
And drew it's virtue to increase their pow'r : 
Long e're this hour had I been back again. 
But that a Storm took me returning back 
And flag'd my tender Wings. 

Prosp. Thou shalt have rest my Spirit : 
But hast thou search'd the wound ? 

Ariel. My Lord I have, 
And 'twas in time I did it ; for the Soul 
Stood almost at life's door, all bare and naked, 
Shivering like Boys upon a River's bank. 
And loth to tempt the cold air ; but I took Her 
And stop'd her in, and pour'd into his Mouth 
The heahng juice of vulnerary Herbs. 

Prosp. Thou art my faithful Servant. 

Ariel. His only danger was his loss of blood ■ 
But now he's wak'd, my Lord, and just this hour 
He must be dress'd again, as I have done it. 
Anoint the Sword which pierc'd him with this Weapon- 
And wrap it close from Air till I have time 
To visit him again. 

Prosp. It shall be done, be it your task, Miranda, 
Because your Sister is not present here, 
While I go visit your dear Ferdinand, 
From whom I will a while conceal this News, 
That it may be more welcome. 

94 The Tempest ; or [Act v 

Miv. I obey you. 
And with a double duty, Sir : for now 
You twice have given me Life. 

Prosp. My Ariel, follow me. [Exeunt severally, 

Hippolito discovered on a Couch, Dorinda hy Mm. 

Dor. How do you find your self ? 

Hip. I'm somewhat cold ; 
Can you not draw me nearer to the Sun, 
I am too weak to walk ? 

Dor. My Love, I'le try. 

[She draws the Chair nearer the Audience. 
I thought you never would have walk'd agen ; 
They told me you were gone away to Heaven ; 
Have you bin there ? 

Rip. I know not where I was. 

Dor. I will not leave you till you promise me 
You will not dye agen. 

Kip. Indeed I will not. 

Dor. You must not go to Heav'n unless we go 
Together ; for I've heard my Father say 
That we must strive to be each others 'Guide, 
The way to it will else be difficult, 
Especially to those who are so Young. 
But I much wonder what it is to dye. 

Rip. Sure 'tis to Dream, a kind of Breathless Sleep 
When once the Soul's gone out. 

Dor. What is the Soul ? 

Rip. A small blew thing that runs about within 

Dor. Then I have seen it in a frosty morning 
Run smoaking from my Mouth. 

Rip. But if my Soul had gone, it should have 
Upon a Cloud just over you, and peep'd. 
And thence I would have call'd you. 

Dor. But I should not have heard you, 'tis so far. 

Act v] The Enchanted Island 95 

Hip. Why then I would have rain'd and snow'd upon 
And thrown down Hail-Stones gently till I hit you. 
And made you look at least. But dear Dorinda 
What is become of him who fought with me ? 

Dor. O, I can teU you joyful news of him. 
My Father means to make him dye to day. 
For what he did to you. 

Hip. That must not be, 
My dear Dorinda, go and beg your Father 
He may not dye, it was my fault he hurt me, 
I urg'd him to it first. 

Dor. But if he live, he'll never leave killing you. 

Hip. O no! I just remember when I fell asleep, 
I heard him calling me a great way off, 
And crying over me as you wou'd do : 
Besides we have no cause of quarrel now. 

Dor. Pray how began your difference first ? 

Hip.^ T fought 
With him for all the W^omen in the World. 

Dor. That Hurt you had was justly sent from Heaven, 
For wishing to have any more but me. 

Hip. Indeed I think it was ; but T repent it. 
The fault was only in my Blood, for now 
'Tis gone, I find I do not love so many. 

Dor. In confidence of this. Tie beg my Father, 
That he may Hve : I'm glad the naughty Blood, 
That made you love so many, is gone out. 

Hip. My Dear, go quickly, least you come too late. 

[Exit Dorinda. 
Enter Miranda at the Door, with Hippolito's 
Sword wrapt up. 

Hip. Who's this who looks so Fair and Beautiful, 
As nothing but Dorinda can surpass her ? 
O! I beheve it is that Angel, Woman, 
Whom she calls Sister. 

96 The Tempest i or [Act v 

Mir. Sir, I am sent hither to dress your Wound, 
How do you find your Strength ? 

Rip. Fair Creature, I am Faint with loss of blood. 

Miv. I'm sorry for 't. 

Hip. Indeed and so am I, 
For if I had that blood, I then should find 
A great delight in loving you. 

Mir. But, Sir, 
I am anothers, and your love is given 
Already to my Sister. 

mp. Yet I find 
That if you please I can love still a little. 

Mir. I cannot be unconstant, nor sliou'd you. 

Hip. O my wound pains me. 

Mir. I am come to ease you. 

\_She unwraps the Sword. 

Hip. Alas! I feel the cold Air come to me. 
My wound shoots worse than ever. 

[She wipes and anoints the Sword. 

Mir. Does it still grieve you ? 

Hip. Now methinks there's something laid just upon 

Mir. Do you find no ease ? 

Hip. Yes, yes, upon the sudden all the pain 
Is leaving me, sweet Heaven how am I eas'd! 
Enter Ferdinand and Dorinda to them. 

Ferd. to Dor. Madam, I must confess my life is yours, 
I owe it to your generosity. 

Dor. I am o'rejoy'd my Father lets you live. 
And proud of my good fortune, that he gave 
Your life to me, 

Mir. How ? Gave his life to her ! 

Hip. Alas! I think she said so; and he said 
He ow'd it to her generosity. 

Ferd. But is not that your Sister with Hippolito ? 

Dor. So kind already! 

Act v] The Enchanted Island 97 

Ferd. I came to welcome Life, 
And I have met the cruellest of deaths. 

Hip. My dear Dorinda with another man ! 

Dor. Sister, what bus'ness have you here ? 

Mir. You see I dress Hippolito. 

Dor. Y' are very charitable to a Stranger. 

Mir. You are not much behind in Charity, 
To beg a Pardon for a Man, whom you 
Scarce ever saw before. 

Dor. Henceforward let your Surgery alone ; 
For I had rather he should dye, than you 
Should cure his wound. 

Mir. And I wish Ferdinand had dy'd before 
He ow'd his Life to your entreaty. 

Ferd. to Hip. Sir, I am glad you are so weU recover'd : 
You keep your humour still to have all Women. 

Hip. Not all, Sir, you except one of the number. 
Your new Love there, Dorinda. 

Mir. Ah Ferdinand ! Can you become inconstant ? 
If I must lose you, I had rather death 
Should take you from me than you take your self. 

Ferd. And if T might have chose, I would have wish'd 
That death from Prospero, and not this from you. 

Dor. I, now I find why I was sent away ; 
That you might have my Sisters company. 

Hip. Dorinda, kill me not with your unkindness. 
This is too much, first to be false your self. 
And then accuse me too. 

Ferd. We all accuse 
Each other, and each one denys their guilt, 
I should be glad it were a mutual errour. 
And therefore first to clear my self from fault, 
Madam, I beg your pardon, while I say 
I only love your Sister. [To Dorinda. 

Mir. O blest Word! 
I'm sure I love no man but Ferdinand. 


98 The Tempest ; or [Act v 

Bov. Nor I, Heav'n knows, but my HippoUto. 

Hip. I never knew I lov'd so much, before 
I fear'd Dorinda's constancy ; but now 
I am convinc'd that I lov'd none but her, 
Because none else can Recompence her loss. 

Ferd. 'Twas happy then you had this little tryal. 
But how we all so much mistook, I know not. 

Mir. I've only this to say in my defence : 
My Father sent me hither, to attend 
The wounded Stranger. 

Dor. And HippoUto 
Sent me to beg the life of Ferdinand. 

Ferd. From such small Errours, left at first unheeded, 
Have often sprung sad accidents in Love. 
But see, our Fathers and our friends are come 
To mix their joys with ours. 

Enter Prospero, Alonzo, Antonio, Gonzalo. 

Alonz. to Prosp. Let it no more be thought of, your 
Though it was severe was just. In losing Ferdinand 
I should have mourn'd, but could not have complain'd. 

Prosp. Sir, I am glad kind Heaven decreed it other- 

Dor. O wonder ! 
How many goodly Creatures are there here ! 
How beauteous mankind is ! 

Hip. O brave new World 
That has such People in't ! ' 

Alonz. to Ferd. Now all the blessings 
Of a glad Father compass thee about. 
And make thee happy in thy beauteous choice. 

Gonz. I've inward wept, or should have spoke e're 
Look down sweet Heav'n, and on this Couple drop 
A blessed Crown, for it is you chalk'd out 
The way which brought us hither. 

Act v] The Enchanted Island 99 

Ant. Though Penitence 
Forc'd by necessity can scarce seem real. 
Yet dearest Brother I have hope my Blood 
May plead for pardon with you : I resign 
Dominion, which 'tis true I could not keep, 
But Heaven knows too I would not. 

Prosp. All past crimes 
I bury in the joy of this Blessed day. 

Alonz. And that I may not be behind in justice, 
To this young Prince I render back his Dukedom, 
And as the Duke of Mantua thus salute him. 

Hip. What is it that you render back, methinks 
You give me nothing. 

Prosp. You are to be Lord 
Of a great People, and o're Towns and Cities. 

Hip. And shall these People be all Men and Women ? 

Gonz. Yes, and shall call you Lord. 

Hip. Why then He live no longer in a Prison, 
But have a whole Cave to my self hereafter. 

Prosp. And that your happiness may be com- 
I give you my Dorinda for your Wife ; 
She shall be yours for ever, when the Priest 
Has made you one. 

Hip. How shall he make us one ? 
Shall I grow to her ? 

Prosp. By saying holy words 
You shall be joyn'd in marriage to each other. 

Dor. I warrant you those holy words are charms. 
My Father means to conjure us together. 

Prosp. to his daughters. My Ariel told me, when last 
night you quarrel' d. 
You said you would for ever part your Beds ; 
But what you threaten'd in your anger, Heaven 
Has turn'd to Prophecy : 
For you, Miranda, must with Ferdinand, 

loo The Tempest', or [Act v 

And you, Dorinda, with Hippolito 
Lye in one Bed hereafter. 

Alonz. And Heav'n make 
Those Beds still fruitful in producing Children, 
To bless their Parents youth, and Grandsires age, 

Mir. to Dor. If Children come by lying in a Bed, 
I wonder you and I had none between us. 

Dor. Sister it was our fault, we meant like fools 
To look 'em in the fields, and they it seems 
Are only found in Beds. 

Hip. I am o'rejoy'd 
That I shall have Dorinda in a bed ; 
We'll lye all night and day together there. 
And never rise again. 

Ferd. Aside to him. Hippolito ! you yet are ignorant 
Of your great Happiness, but there is somewhat 
Which for your own and fair Dorinda's sake 
I must instruct you in. 

Hip. Pray teach me quickly 
How Men and Women in your World make love, 
I shall soon learn I warrant you. 

Enter Ariel driving in Stephano, Trincalo, Mustacho, 
Ventoso, Caliban, Sycorax. 

Prosp. Why that's my dainty Ariel, I shall miss 
But yet thou shalt have freedom. 

Gonz. O look. Sir, look the Master and the Saylors ; 

The Bosen too my Prophecy is out. 

That if a Gallows were on land, that Man 
Could n'ere be drown'd. 

Alonz. to Trine. Now Blasphemy, what not one Oath 
ashore ? 
Hast thou no mouth by land ? Why star'st thou so ? 
Trine. What more Dukes yet! I must resign my 
Dukedom ; 
But 'tis no matter, I was almost starv'd in't. 

Act v] The Enchanted Island loi 

Must. Here's nothing but wild Sallads, without Oyl 
or Vinegar. 

Steph. The Duke and Prince ahve ! Would I had now 
our gallant Ship agen, and were her Master, I'd willingly 
give aU my Island for her. 

Vent. And I my Vice-Roy-ship. 

Trine. I shaU need no Hangman, for I shall e'en hang 
my self, now my Friend Butt has shed his last drop of 
Life. Poor Butt is quite departed. 

Ant. They talk like mad men. 

Prosp. No matter, time wiU bring 'em to themselves ; 
And now their Wine is gone they will not quarrel. 
Your Ship is safe and tight, and bravely rigg'd, 
As when you first set Sail. 

Alonz. This news is wonderful. 

Ariel. Was it weU done, my Lord ? 

Prosp. Rarely, my diligence. 

Gonz. But pray. Sir, what are those mishapen 
Creatures ? 

Prosp. Their Mother was a Witch, and one so strong 
She would controul the Moon, make Flows and Ebbs, 
And deal in her Command without her Power. 

Syc. O Setebos ! These be brave Sprights indeed. 

Prosp. to Calib. Go Sirrah to my Cell, and as you 
For Pardon, trim it up. 

Calib. Most carefully. I will be wise hereafter. 
What a dull Fool was I to take those Drunkards 
For Gods, when such as these were in the World ? 

Prosp. Sir, I invite your Highness and your Train 
To my poor Cave this night ; a part of which 
I will imploy in telling you my story. 

Alonz. No doubt it must be strangely taking. Sir. 

Prosp. When the Morn dawns I'le bring you to your 
And promise you calm Seas and happy Gales. 

I02 The Tempest [Act v 

My Ariel, that's thy charge : then to the Elements 
Be free, and fare thee well. 
Ariel. I'le do it Master. 

Sings. Where the Bee sucks there suck I, 
In a Cowslips Bell, I lye ; 
There I couch when Owls do cry. 
On the Swallows Wing I flye 
After Summer merrily. 
Merrily, merrily shall I live now 
Under the Blossom that hangs on the Bough. 

Syc. I'll to Sea with thee, and keep thee warm in thy 

Trine. No my dainty Dy-dapper, you have a tender 
Constitution, and will be sick a Ship-board. You are 
partly Fish and may swim after me. I wish you a good 

Prosp. Now to this Royal Company, my Servant, 
Be visible, and entertain them with 
A Dance before they part. 

Ariel. I have a gentle Spirit for my Love, 
Who twice seven years hath waited for my Freedom, 
It shall appear and foot it featly with me. 
Milcha, my Love, thy Ariel caUs thee. 

Enter Milcha. 

Milcha. Here ! [They dance a Saraband. 

Prosp. Henceforth this Isle to the afflicted be 
A place of Refuge as it was to me : 
The Promises of blooming Spring live here. 
And all the Blessings of the rip'ning Year : 
On my retreat let Heaven and Nature smile, 
And ever flourish the Enchanted Isle. [Exeunt. 


/^^ ALLANTS, by all good signs it does appear, 
yJ^ That Sixty Seven's a very damning year, 
For Knaves abroad, and for ill Poets here. 

Among the Muses there's a gen'ral rot, 

The Rhyming Monsieur and the Spanish Plot ; 

Defie or Court, all's one, they go to Pot. 

The Ghosts of Poets walk within this place, 
And haunt us Actors wheresoe're we pass. 
In Visions bloodier than King Richard's was. 

For this poor wretch he has not much to say. 
But quietly brings in his part o' th' Play, 
And begs the favour to be damn'd to day. 

He sends me only like a Sh'riffs Man here 
To let you know the Malefactor's neer ; 
And that he means to die, en Cavalier. 

For if you shou'd be gracious to his Pen, 
Th' Example will prove ill to other men. 
And you'll be troubled with 'em all agen. 




O R T H E 

Enchanted Caftle. 


Theatre Royal. 

Written By T. D u f f e t t. 

Hie totus volo rideat libellus. Mart. 


Printed for William Cademan at the Popes-Head in the lower 
Walk of the 2{jw Exchange in the Strand. 1675 

Persons Represented. 

Prospero, a Duke, Head-keeper of the Enchanted Oastle. 

Alonzo, a Duke, his mortal Enemy. 

Quakero, son of Alonzo. 

Gonzalo, a subject of Alonzos. 

Antonio, his Friend. 

Hypolito, Infant Duke of Mantua, Innocent and ignorant. 

Hedorio, a Pimp. 

J-) ■ J \ tte harmless daughters of Prospero. 

Stephania, a- Baud. 

Beantosser "j 

Moustrappa I Wenches. 

Drinkallup J 

Ariel, a Spirit waiting on Prospero. 

A Plenipotentiary. 

Wenches, 'BnA.&ffeYL-Keepers, Spirits, Devils, Masquers, 
and Prisners. 

The Scene in London. 


The Introduction, spoken by Mr. Hains^ 
and Mrs. Mackarel. 

My. Hains Enters alone. 

YOU are of late become so mutinous, 
Y'ave forc'd a reverend Bard to quit our House. 
Since y'are so soon misled to ruin us, 
I'le call a Spirit forth that shall declare. 
What aU your tricks and secret Virtues are. 
What? ho Ariell 

Enter Betty Mackarel. 

Here's Betty Now rail if you dare : 

Speak to 'em Betty ha! asham'd, alass poor Girl, 

Whisper me! — Oh I'le teU 'em — Gentlemen! she says, 
Y'are grown so wild she could not stay among ye. 
And yet her tender heart is loath to wrong ye. 
Spare 'em not. 
Whom kindness cannot stir, but stripes may move. 

Bet. O Mr. Hainsl I've often felt their Love. 

Ha. Poh, felt a Pudding that has taken vent. 
Their love cools faster, and as soon is spent. 
Think of thy high calling Betty, now th'art here, 
They gaze and wish, but cannot reach thy Sphere, 
Though ev'ry one could squeeze thy Orange there. 

Bet. Why this to me, Mr. Haines (d'ee conceive me) 
why to me ? 

Ha. Ay, why this to Betty ? 
O Virtue, Virtue ! vainly art thou sought. 
If such as Betty must be counted naught : 
Examine your Consciences Gentlemen ! 
When urg'd with heat of love, and hotter Wine, 
How have you begg'd, to gain your lewd design : 
Betty, dear, dear, dear Betty, 


io8 The Mock-Tempest 

I'le spend five Guinnyes on thee, if thou'lst go : 
And then they shake their (d'ee conceive me) Betty is't 
not so, their yellow Boyes. 
Bet. Fie Mr. Rains, y'are very rude (d'ee conceive me.) 
Ha. Then speak your self. 
Bet. Gentlemen! you know what I know. 

If y'are severe, all shall out by this light : 
But if you wiU be kind, I'le still be right 
Ka. So that's weU — make thy Cursy Betty. 
Now go in Child, I have something to say to these 
Gentlemen in private. \Exit Betty. 

Prologue. Spoken by Mr. Hains. 

O INCE Heroes Ghosts, and Gods have felt your spight: 
v3 Your She Familiars, and your dear delight ; 
The Devils shall try their power, w'ee to night : 
Some do believe that Devils ne'r have been. 
Because they think, none can he worse then them : 
But Female Sprights by all are felt and seen. 

You see our Study is to please you all : 
Lets not by stiff Tom Thimbles faction fall ; 
Whose censures are meer ign'rance in disguise. 
The noyse of envious fools, that would seem wise. 

If Bacons Brazen-head cry that won't pass, 

Strayt all the little Fops are turn'd to brass, 
And Eccho to the braying of that Ass : 
Although we take their shapes and sensless sounds. 
Lets not be worryd by our own dull Hounds : 
Let not their noyse that got your Money there. 
Deprave your Judgments, and your pleasure here. 

Ye men of Sense and Wit, resume your Raign. 
Th'are honour' d who by noble Foes are slain ; 
Such comforts wounded Lovers have who swear, 
When their tormenting pains are most sevare, 
Dam'ee ! 

It does not vex me to be Clapp'd by her : 
Gad she was handsome, though the sport is dear. 
But who in your sight at their mercy lyes. 
Much like an Eastern Malefactor dyes, 
Expos' d i'th' Sun to be devour' d by flyes. 

Let Language, Wit and Plot, this Night be safe, 

For all our business is to make you laugh. 





Enchanted Castle. 

Act I. Scene i. 

A great noyse heard of heating Doors, and breaking Win- 
dowes, crying a Whore, a Whore, &c. 
Enter Beantosser, and Moustrappa. 

Bean. \ 'X THAT a noyse they make ! 

VV Mous. A roaring noyse, we shall have 
foul weather. 

Enter Drinkallup. 
Drink. The Dogs have us in the Wind, 'twill go hard. 
[Exeunt Beantosser and Moustrappa.] 
Enter Stephania. 
Steph. Hectorio ! Hectorio ! 
All. Hectorio ! Hectorio ! Hectorio ! 

Enter Hectorio. 
Hect. Here here Mother, what cheer, what cheer. 
Steph. Never worse, never worse, barr up the Doors, 
barr up the Doors : Oh ! Oh ! 

[She whistles, Wenches run on and off again.] 
Enter Moustrappa. 
All. Barr up the Doors, barr up the Doors. 


112 The Mock-Tempest^ or [Act i 

Mous. Let's make all fast enough, and let'm roar the 
Devils head off. 

Steph. Beantosser, Beantosser. 

All. Beantosser, Beantosser, Beantosser. 

Steph. Why where is this damn'd deaf fiunder 
mouth' d drab ? 

Enter Beantosser. 

Bean. Here here, a pox o' these full mouth'd Fox 

Hect. They hunt* devilish hard, I'me affrai'd they'l 
earth us. 

Steph. Give Hectorio a dram of the Bottle, the Whey- 
Blooded Rogue looks as if his heart were melted into 
his Breeches. [Exeunt Beantosser and Hectorio. 

Enter Wenches arm'd with Spitts, Forks, Tongs, Chamber- 
Potts, &c. they pass over the stage. 

Steph. Bear up, bear up my brave Amazons,^ y'ave 
born Ten times as many men in your times : heigh my 
Girles, stand fast my stout bona Roba's, run, fly, work 
nimbly, nimbly ye Queans, or all's lost. [Exeunt all. 

[A great noyse again. 
Enter Hectorio, Alonzo, Gonzalo, Quakero. 

Alon. Good friend, stand to thy tackhng, and play 
the Man : where's Mother Stephania. 

Hect. Pry'thee old Goat tye up thy Clack, and move 
thy hands. 

Quak. Friend, friend, look thee, bridle thy unruly 
member to wit, thy tongue. 

Hect. Work, work, my hearts of Gold. 

Quak. Ha, ha, ha, my Father to whom thou spakest 
so unadvisedly is Duke of that building which do-eth 
sustain my Lord Mayors Cattle, Vidicilet, his Doggs. 

Hect. Fill the sweating Tub with Stones, and set it 
against the Door, quick, quick. 

Within. The Sweating Tub, the Sweating Tub! 

Stones, Stones! 

Sc. i] The Enchanted Castle 113 

Quak. He is moreover perpetual Whiffler to the 
Worshipful company of Pin-makers, as I my self am. 
Hect. Confound thy Father and thy self. 

[A noyse within. 
What care these Roarers for the worshipful Pin-makers ? 
Silence, and to work, or I'le ram thee into a Chamber- 
pot, and throw thee out at Window. [Exeunt all. 
Enter Stephania, Beantosser, Moustrappa and 
Steph. Stir, Wenches, stir, bring out all the Jourdans 
fuU of Water. 

All. The Jourdans, the Jourdans, S-c. 
Beantosser, Drinkallup, and Moustrappa run off several 
wayes crying the Jourdans. 
\A great noyse within, all crying a Whore, a 
Whore, a Whore, &c. 
Steph. Send a Legion of DevUs down their yelling 

throats to pluck their lungs out. Out ye hauling 

Curs, ye iU-bred hounds, here are Whores enough for 
you all. All, if you would behave your selves like civil 
Gentlemen, and come one after another. 
She Whistles, Enter Wenches. 

Down, down, down to the Sellar Windows. 

All. The Sellar Windows, the SeUar Windows. 

[The Wenches run down the Trap Door. 
Enter Beantosser, Moustrappa, and Drinkallup hastily 
one after another. 
Bean. Undone, undone, not one drop of Water in the 

Mous. With hard labour aU their moisture turns into 

Drink. Th'are dryer then hung Beef, and almost as 
black too. 

Bean. Your advice, your advice Mother. 

Drink. Dispatch, or w'are ruin'd. 

Steph. Get up in the Windows, you musty Queens, 


114 The Mock-Tempest^ or [Act i 

make water in their Eyes, and burn e'm out, I'me sure 

y'are hot enough. 

Enter Hectorio. 

Red. Turn out, turn out all hands to the Back-door : 
is this a time to prate ye spurr-gald jades, ye over-rid 

Mous. O you huffing Son of a Whore. 

Drink. You rotten Jack in a box. 

Bean. You foul mouth'd Nickumpoop. 

Hect. Prate on, prate on, d'ee hear how it Thunders ? 
-stand still and be damn'd, lie shift well enough 

for one. [The noyse renew' d. 

[Exit Hectorio. 
Steph. Turn out, turn out Seditious mutiners, ye or 

I'le have ye all fiead Out, out! 

[Exeunt Beantosser, Moustrappa, and Drinkallup. 
Enter Gonzalo, Alonzo, and Quakero. 
Gonz. More noyse and terrour then a Tempest at Sea. 

Enter Beantosser. 
Bean. The green Chamber, the green Chamber. 

[Stephania whistles, the Wenches come up from 
the Trapp-door. 
Steph. Aloft, aloft, to the green Chamber, all to the 

green Chamber Aloft, aloft. 

[Exeunt Beantosser and Wenches. 

Alon. My Honour, my Reputation. 

Quak. Yea! Reputation, Reputation! Woo man, 

ah! ha! 

Steph. Reputation! ye crop-ear'd whelps, Reputa- 
tion! is not my Reputation dearer to me then your 
lives, and Souls ? Down with the Close stool upon their 

You louzy farandinical Sots, Reputation ! I have had 

Lords Lords ! thou whey-bearded Ananias, and then 

I had a blessing on my endeavours; but this is justly 
fall'n upon me, for deaHng with such zealous Whore- 
masters, thin-gutted ^d. Customers Out of my sight, 

Sc. i] The Enchanted Castle 115 

and to work, or by the beards of my renowned Pre- 
decessors I'le have you hung out Hke Wool-sacks to 
defend my Walls. See if thou canst preach the Rabble 
to Silence, thou canting Hypocritical Abednego. 

Quak. Yea, thou babylonish Whore in grain, thou 
Harlot of a London dye, thou shalt see the strength of 

the power of a um Thou shalt see, I say, look ye 

Friends, Brethren and Sisters Give heedful atten- 
tion, and a, and I say a um 

[A shout within, and dirt thrown in his mouth. 

[Exeunt all. 
Enter again Stephania and Beantosser. 
Bean. We are gone, we are gone, th'are all broke in 
the Closet Window, 

Enter Hectorio. 
Hect. Hell, and Devils, th'are untiling of the House. 

Enter Wenches. 
Steph. Let off the Bottles of Stepony, they may think 
th'are Guns. 

Bean. Clap up the middle hatch with the Iron spikes. 
Hect. Take down the false Stairs. 

Enter Moustrappa. 
Mous. Open the Trap-door, that falls into the 

Enter Drinkallup. 

Drink. Hang up the tenter Hooks. 

Steph. Set the great Chest against the stair Door. 

[Stephania Whistles, Enter Wenches. 
All. To the great Chest, the great Chest. 

[Exeunt all hut Stephania. 
Hect. within. Heave all together, heave Cats, heave. 

Heave Cats, heave cheerily, cheerily. 

Enter Alonzo, Gonzalo and Quakero. 

Alon. Gonz. Quak. Murther, murther, murther. 

Steph. Oh, you obstreperous Woolves, a Rot consume 
your Windpipes, y'are louder then the rabble. 
Alon. O, this base, this cursed business! 

ii6 The Mock-Tempest ^ or [Act i 

Steph,. Cursed bus'ness, thou invincible Fop, thou 

Brazen headed Ignoramus Hast thou a mind to be 

limb'd? one word more, and all the Doors shall fly- 
open : Cursed bus'ness, with a pox to ye. \She whistles. 
Enter Wenches — And go off again. 
Come tag-rag-and-long-tail. Old Satin, Taffaty, and 
Velvet, rouze about, charge 'em briskly, showr the Coals 

on their pates. He calls Wenching, base cursed 

bus'ness Oh you rake HeUs, sons of unknown 


Enter Beantosser. 
Bean. Hell take 'em, they clime the Walls like Cats. 
Steph. Down with the Tables and Stools upon 'em. 

\Exit Beantosser. 
[The noyse renew'd. 
Enter Hectorio. 
Hect. Sound a Parle, sound a Parle, or they'l break 

in upon us There's no hope left. 

Steph. A Parle, thou impudent -miscreant! false 
hearted Caytiff I'le rather like a noble Roman Virago, 
make my House my Funeral pile. 

Hect. All are resolv'd not to fight a stroak more, sound 
a Parle but to gain time. 

Steph. To delude the Foe I consent, but never to 
yield. [She whistles. 

Enter Drinkallup, Beantosser and Moustrappa. 
Sound a Parle, and hang out the White Flag. 

[A Horn sounds within, and one passes over the 
Stage with a Flannel Peticoat on a Stick : 
another Horn sounded on the other side. 
Hect. Hark, they answer us. 

Steph. Go you Drinkallup, and see what they will 

demand. [Exit Drinkallup and returns immediately. 

Drink. Here's a Plenipotentiary desires admittance. 

Steph. Let him be blinded,, and introduc'd by the 

Postern Casement- Come fellow Souldiers, lets 

Sc. i] "jThe Enchanted Castle 117 

sit in State, and receive him with undaunted Counten- 
ances, as blustring Warriours do, though we are Uke to 
dye for fear. 

A Guard of Wenches Enter. 

Master of our Ceremonies, introduce the Plenipoten- 
tiary. \_A dirty fellow led in between two Wenches. 

Steph. Fellow Souldiers 'tis a Maxim in Warr to treat 

with our Arms in our hands (Guard, deliver us your 

Weapons) and while we talke of peace to prepare 

for a Battle; therefore Guard go you and mend the 
backs of the Chairs. {Exeunt Guard. 

Plenipotentiary, be not dismaid with the ghttering 
Splendour of our Court, but boldly deliver what thou 
hast in Charge. 

Plen. My Master, the many-headed-monster-Multi- 
tude, to save the great effusion of Christian Chamberlj^ 
will grant you peace on these terms. 

Steph. Say on. 

Plen. First, they demand the Dominion of the 

Straights mouth, and all the Mediterranean Sea 

That every Frigot, Fireship, you have, shall strike, furle 
up their sail, and lye by to the least of their Cock-boats, 
where-ever they meet, and receive a man aboard to 
search for prohibited Goods, and permit him to romage 
fore and aft without resistance. 

Steph. Umph. My friends, this is very hard. 

Plen. Secondly, That all their Vessels shall have and 
enjoy a free-trade into and out of aU your Ports without 
paying any Custom. 

Steph. The duties of Importation are my greatest 
Revenue, and must not be parted with. 

Bean. But though your People pay for import, we 
will engage to pay them at going off. 

Mous. As we have always done heretofore. 

Plen. Lastly, That you re-imburse the charge of the 
War, pay for the Cure of the wounded, and the recov'ry 

ii8 The Mock-Tempest^ or [Act i 

of those that have surfeited on your rotten Ling and 
Poys'nous Oyl, and allow Pensions for those that are 
dismembered What say ye, Peace, or War ? 

Steph. War. 

All. War, War, War. 

Steph. Return for answer, that we wiU rather dye at 
their Feet, then submit to such dishonourable Condi- 
tions: Begon: And so she pray'd me to tell 


Plen. Though you refuse peace, I scorn to carry back 
my present, there. [Throwes out a bunch of Garrets. 

Drink. We scorn their Courtesies, and their dry toyes. 

Plen. Are ye so fierce? if the Siege continue, you'l 

Petition for 'em : look for Fire and Sword And so 

she pray'd me to teU you. [Exit Plenipotentiary. 

Steph. Arm, Arm, give the word. Arm, Arm. 

All. Arm, Arm. 

Within. Arm, Arm, Arm, [Exeunt All. 

[The noyse of the assault renew' d. 
Enter Stephania, Beantosser, and Moustrappa. 

Steph. Many a brush have I gon through in my time, 
but never was any so sharp. 

Enter Hectorio. 

Hect. S'death, our Ammunition's spent, the dear dear 
dyet-drink's gone. 

Steph. And yet these Canibals, more insatiate then 
the Sea, are not satisfi'd with our best goods ; pull up 
the Harths, and down with the Chimnies. 

[Exeunt Beantosser and Moustrappa. 

Hect. 'Tis in vain to strive. 

Steph. Thou Cow-hearted cormorant, shall we be aU 
lost for thee ? 

Hect. No, 'tis for thy obstinacy, thou insatiable shee- 

Steph. Rot your Sheeps blood. 

Hect. Confound your brutish heart and bacon, face. 

Sc. i] The Enchanted Castle 119 

Steph. Nounz, stir about, or Tie beat thy brains out 
with my Bottle. 

Hect. One word more, and by the Lord, Harry. 
Steph. Thou dar'st not for thy Blood, thou dar'st not. 

[She Whistles. 
Enter all the Wenches. 
Steph. For shame let not the Army see our difference, 

or thy Cowardise. 

Hect. Pull down the House, and bury them in the 
Ruines : come along boldly, my dear hearts, follow me, 

I shall find a time. [Exeunt Wenches. Exit Hectorio. 

Steph. To be hang'd 1 don't doubt it. 

Enter Beantosser. 
Bean. O save the Syring and the Pot of Turpentine- 

piUs for my sake. [Exit Beantosser. 

Steph. Save nothing, cut off your Leggs and throw 
at 'em. Out with the Exchange Womans Trunk of 
Perfum'd Linnen which the Old Knight us'd to play hey 

Gamer Cook in Out, out ; save nothing. 

[Exit Stephania. 
Enter Hectorio, and Moustrappa. 
Hect. Fill the old Justices greazy Night-Cap with the 
Rosary of Beads the Fryer pawn'd here but last Night, 
and down with 'em. 

Mous. I wish they were all Cannon-bullets for their 
sakes. [Exit Hectorio. 

Enter Stephania, hastily. 
Steph. Hold, hold, if you throw out the Beads, they'l 
take us for Papishes, and then there's no Mercy ; other- 
wise we may still hope for pity because we are aU of one 

Enter Hectorio. 
Hect. Set the Led Cistern against the Door ; all hands 
to the Cistern, to the Cistern. [Stephania whistles. 

Enter all the Wenches. 
Steph. My Girles, my Daughters. 

I20 The Mock-Tempest^ or [Act i 

Red. Fellow Souldiers, dear hearts now for the last 

Steph. AU hands to the Cistern, away \Exeunt all. 

Enter all, pulling at a Rope. 
Hect. Hoa up ; hoa up ; cheerily, cheerily, pluck aU 


All. Hoa up! hoa up! hoa up! 

Enter Stephania whistling. 
Steph. Down, down, all hands down, th'are going to 
spring a Mine. [All run down. 

Enter Beantosser, and Moustrappa. 
Bean. There's a fresh Brigade ef sturdy Blood-hounds 
come from the Butcher-row. 

Mous. The Barr of the Door's broke. 

[Exeunt Beantosser and Moustrappa. 
Steph. Barr it with the Constables staffe that lay 
here last Night. 

Enter Drinkallup. 
Drink. O Mother, save your self, save your self. 
Steph. Must our mouths be cold then ? [She whistles. 
Enter Hectorio. 

Hect. All's lost, all's lost. [Exit DrinkaUup. 

Enter Beantosser and Moustrappa. 
Bean. They break in like a full Sea upon us. 
Mous. O Mother, Mother, shift for your self. 
Steph. Name not me : the Justices, and Jaylors, are 
my very good Friends, and Customers. 
All. Ah, there's no trust to Friends now. 
Steph. If I dye, I dye, but I pity your tender backs, 
and grieve for the present want all these young Gallants 
will have of so many excellent Beauties. 

[Exeunt Hectorio, Beantosser, Moustrappa, and 
Drinkallup, and return presently. 
Hect. Yet, yet, you may 'scape perhaps. 
Bean. The poor hearts fight as if they were aU 

Sc. 2] The Enchanted Castle 121 

Mous. Yet, shift Mother, in two minutes 'twil be too 

Steph. No, here will I stay, and like a Phcenix, perish 
in my Nest, the Fates so Decree. 

Bean. Then let's among 'em, and dye all together, or 

break through. 

All. Agreed, agreed. [Exeunt all. 
[A great noyse of fighting, crying Fire, Murther, 
&c. The Rabble, and Wenches enter fighting. 
It Rains Fire, Apples, Nuts. A Con- 
stable and Watch enter, and drive all off. 

Act I. Scene 2. 

The Scene chang'd to BrideweU. 
Enter Prospero, and Miranda. 

Pros. /ly/IRANDA, where's your Sister ? 

yyy Mir. I left her on the Dust-Cart-top, 
gaping after the huge noyse that went by. 

Pros. It was a dreadful show. 

Mir. Oh woe, and alass, ho, ho, ho! I'm glad I did 
not see it though. 

Pros. Hold in thy breath, and teU thy Vertuous Body, 
there's no harme down, th'are aU reserv'd for thine, 
and thy Sister Dorindas private use. 

Mir. And shall we have 'em all, a-ha! that will be 
fine i'fads ; but if you don't keep 'em close, pray Father, 
we shall never have 'em long to our selves pray; for 
now ev'ry Gentlewoman runs huckstring to Market, the 
youth are bought up so fast, that poor Publicans are 
allmost starv'd, so they are so. 

Pros. Leave that to my Fatherly Care. 

Mir. And shall we have 'em all, ha, ha, he ! O good 
dear hau, how the Citizens Wives wiU curse us. 

Pros. Miranda, you must now leave this Tom-rigging, 
and learn to behave your self with a grandeur and state, 

122 The Mock-Tempest^ or [Act i 

befitting your illustrious Birth and Quality. Thy 

Father, Miranda, was 50 years ago a man of great 
power, Duke of my Lord Mayors Dogg-kennel. 

Mir. O lo, why Father, Father, are not I Miranda 
Whiffe, sooth, and arn't you Prospero Whiffe, sooth. 
Keeper of Bridewell, my Father ? 

Pros. Thy Mother was all Mettle. As true as Steel, 

as right's my Legg, and she said thou wert my Daughter ; 
canst thou remember when thou wert Born, sure thou 
canst not, for then thou wert but three days old. 

Mir. I'fads, I do remember it Father, as well as 
'twere but yesterday. 

Pros. Then scratch thy tenacious Poll, and tell me 
what thou findest backward in the misty back and 
bottomless Pit of time. 

Mir. Pray Father had I not Four, or Five Women 
waiting upon top of me, at my Mothers groaning, pray ? 

Pros. Thou hadst, and more Miranda, for then I had 
a Tub of humming stuff would make a Cat speak. 

Mir. O Gemine ! Father how came we hither ? 

Pros. While I despising mean, and worldly bus'ness, 
as mis-becoming my grave Place, QuaUty, did for the 
bett'ring of my mind, apply my self, to the secret and 
laudable study of Nine-pins, Shovel-board and Pigeon- 
holes do'st thou give ear Infant ? 

Mir. I do, most Prudent Sir. 

Pros. My Brother, to whom I left the manage of my 
weighty state, having learn'd the mysterious Craft of 
coupling Doggs, and of untying them; and by strict 
Observation of their jilting carriage, found the time 
when Venus, Countess, Lady, Beauty, and the rest of 
my she subjects, were to be oblig'd, by full allowance of 
their sports, soon grew too Popular, stole the hearts of 
my currish Vassals, and so became the Ivy-leaf, which 
cover'd my Princely Issue, and suck'd out all my Juice. 
Dost observe me Child ? 

Sc. 2] The Enchanted Castle 123 

Mir. Yes, forsooth Father, this story would cure 

Pros. This Miscreant, so dry he was for sway, betray'd 
me to Alonzo, Duke of* Newgate; and in a stormy and 
dreadfull Night open'd my Kenell Gates, and forc'd me 
thence with thy young Sister, and thy howhng self. 

Mir. Father ! did they kill us then, pray Father ? 

Pros. Near the KeneU they dar'd not for the love my 

dogged Subject bore me. In short to Newgate we 

were carry'd, And thence all in a Cart, without a 

cov'ring, or a Pad of Straw, to Hyde Park-corner, we 
were hurri'd there on the stubbed Carkase of a Leafeless 
Tree, they hoysted us aloft to pipe to winds, whose 
murm'ring pity whistling back again, did seem to show 
us cursed kindness. 

Mir. O poor Father! But whereof, how did we 

'scape Father ? 

Pros. Some Friends we had, and some Money, which 
gaind the assistance of a great man called Gregoria Dunn, 
appointed master of that black design : now luck begins 

to turn. But ask no more ; I see thou grow'st pinck- 

ey'd, go in, and let the Nurse lay thee to sleep. 

Mir. And shall she give me some Bread and Butter, 

Pros. Ay, my Child, Go in. [Exit Miranda.] 

So she's fast. Ariel, what ho my Ariel? 

Enter Ariel flying down. 

Ari. Hayl most potent Master, I come to serve thy 
pleasure. Be it to lye, swear, steal, pick pockets, or 
creep in at Windows 

Pros. How didst thou perform the last task I set thee ? 

Ari. I gather'd the Rabble together, show'd them the 
Bawdy House, told e'm they us'd to kUl Prentices, and 

make mutton pyes of 'em 1 led them to the Windows, 

Doors, backward, forward, now to the Sellar, now to the 
House top Then I ran and call'd the Constable, who 

124 "The Mock-Tempest^ or [Act ii 

came just as the Rabble broke in, and the defendants 
were leaping from the Balcony, like Saylers from a 
sinking Ship. The Duke and his Trayn I clap'd into a 

Pros. Are they all taken and safe ? 
Ari. All safe in several parts of this thy enchanted 
Castle of Bridewel, and not a hair of 'em lost. 

Pros. 'Twas bravely done my Ariell Whats a Clock ? 
An. Great Tom already has struck ten : 
Now blest are Women that have men, 
To tell fine tale, and warm cold feet. 
While lonely lass lyes gnawing sheet. 
Pros. We have much to do e're morning come: 
follow me, I'le instruct thee within. 

Before the gorgeous Sun upon House top doth Sneer, 
The Laud knows what is to be done, the Laud knows 
where. [Exeunt. 

The End of the First Act. 

Act II. Scene i. 

Enter Miranda and Dorinda. 

Dor. C~\^ Sister Sister, what have I seen pray ? 
V.^ Mir. Some rare sight I warrant. 

Dor. From yonder dust-cart-top, as I star'd upon the 
noyse, I thought it had been fighting, but at last I saw 
a huge Creature, for ought I know. 

Mir. O whereof you mean the Coach. 

Dor. Coach ! i'fads, I thought it had been a Fish, I'm 
sure it was alive, and it ran roaring along, and all the 
People ran away from it for fear it should eat 'em. 

Mir. O lo, O lo Sister, O lo! ^ha ha he 

Dor. Why d'ee laugh at one Sister, indeed it had 
eaten men, for just by our gate it stood still and open'd 
a great Mouth in the beUy of it, and spit 'em out all , 

Sc. i] The Enchanted Castle 125 

Mir. Oh but Sister, whereof I can tell you news pray, 
my Father told me in that Creature was that thing 
call'd Husband, and we shoiild see it shortly and have 
it pray, in a Civil way. 

Dor. Husband, what's that ? 

Mir. Why that's a thing like a man (for ought I 
know) with a great pair of Homes upon his head, and 
my father said 'twas made for Women, look ye. 

Dor. What must we ride to water upon't. Sister? 

Mir. No, no, it must be our Slave, and give us 
Golden Cloaths Pray, that other men may lye with us 
in a Civil way, and then it must Father our Children and 
keep them. 

Dor. And when we are so Old and Ugly, that no body 
else will lye with us, must it lye with us it self ? 

Mir. Ay that it must Sister. 

Dor. You see my Father gets men to lye with us, is 
not he a Husband then ? 

Mir. No, you see he has no Homes. 

Dor. May be he sheds 'em like a Buck, or puts 'em 
in his pocket like a rich Citizen, because he won't lye 
with us himself when he can get no body else. 

Mir. Fie Sister ; no ! Fathers and Mothers are kinder 
and wiser now then they were heretofore look ye ; for 
when they see their Daughters will be modish and kind, 
they provide 'em Gallants themselves to lye with them. 

Dor. But if we must take those our careful Parents 
get, only for profit, 'tis as bad as marrying. 

Mir. They doe it only 'tiU they get us Husbands to 
ease them of the trouble. 

Dor. O whereof Sister, my Father may spare himself 
of that trouble, for I am old enough to shift for my self 
in a civil way, for I was 13. last quarter Sessions, ay 
and wise enough too. 

Mir. So we all think i'vads, but they can get us 
Coaches and Settlements, whereof if we were left to our 

126 The Mock-Tempest^ or [Act ii 

selves, we should creep into holes, and get nothing but 

Dor. If our fathers don't get us Husbands quickly, 
wee'l make him lye with us himself, shall we Sister ? 

Mir. Ay ay, that we will, but lets goe in now. He's 
about something I long to see the end of, come lets not 
despair, the flesh is strong. 

Dor. O for a Husband Sister how I long. 

\Exeunt Miranda and Dorinda. 

Act II. Scene 2. 

Enter Alonzo, and Gonzalo affrighted. 

Alon. f~~^ ONZALO Oh my lodging is inchanted. 

Gon. V-J Mine with a Devil and like your Grace is 

Which plays more tricks then e're the witch my 
Aunt did. 
Alon. First doleful groans at both my ears were lugging. 

Then whistling voyce like wind in empty muggin. 
Gon. Shrieks as of switcheld lass I heard, and anon 

Sighs of enchanted ghost like roaring Canon. 
Alon. With Princely hoof I knock'd, and noyse did 

By which I find O, Heavens ! the House is hollow. 

My bed of state 

Gon. Of straw you mean now good my Lord doe 

not lye. 
Alon. Millions of devils mov'd, black, white, and motley, 

Six legs a piece, sharp claws. 
Gon. Aye mine were so Sir, 

Each tooth a needle, and each eye a saucer. 

They stole my shooes, and in a hole I found 'em. 

The white possest, black Armies did surround 'em. 

Feircely the black attaqu'd, and white defended, 

Horrour and death in ev'ry Seam attended. 

Sc. 2] The Enchanted Castle 127 

The nimble black like hopping Devils ventur'd, 

Mounted the works, and on the half moon enter'd. 

But here the white serty'd as thick as sawdust, 

And beat them off. 

Then march'd up the red listed Reformadoes, 

But what they did I dare not tell for fear. 
Alon. Sage matrons say, where such kind Foes appear. 

The Lord o'th' pasture shall not dye that year. 

Gon. Unless he's eaten out 

Alon. On large deal board by prudent vermine chosen. 

Two Armies more were fighting for my hosen. 

If I but offer composition for my sock. 

All leave the field, and to my Carkass flock. 

No Fairy pinches half so close, nor no Witch. 

Gon. 'Tis worse then nettle, sting of Wasp, or Cowitch. 

[Alonzo pulls a Louse out of his neck. 

Alon. Treason treason, O here's one of the white 

devils, treason treason, my guard my guard. Oh ho 


Fortune has cheated me of aU, pize on her, 

I am no Duke now, but a poor Prisoner. 

[A noyse of horrid Instruments. 
Gon. Oh what horrid noyse is this assaults our 

Devils rise and Sing. 

1 De. Where be those boyes, 

That make such a noyse, 
And won't eat their bread and butter ? 

2 De. Without all doubt. 

Th' are hereabout, 
Wee I teach 'em to make such a Clutter. 

3 De. Who are the ring-leaders, who rules the Roast ? 

4 De. Alonzo the Duke, and another old Toast. 

1 De. Wee'l put water in their porridge, 

And straw in their beds, 

2 De. Shooes on their feet, and a Comb in their heads. 

128 The Mock-Tempest^ er [Act ii 

Chorus. Wee I put &c. 

And straw &c. 
Shooes &c. 

Alon. O save me, save me, Gonzalo. 

Gon. I would give him the best member I have, to 
save my self. 

Alon. These great He Devils will hearken to no such 

The Devils sing again. 

1 De. Rogues that from their Liquor shrink, 

Shall scorch to death for want of drink. 

2 De. And who with false glass good fellows betray, 

3 De. And tipple small heer in stead of their wine, 

4 De. Then bubble their poor weak brothers at play. 

To the whip and the stocks wee'l confine. 
I De. So poor, so poor, they still shall remain ; 

Mirth, or good Wine, they shall ne'r have again, 
Nor never, oh never, be eas'd of their pain. 

Chorus. So poor, &c. 


Nor never 

Gon. Never, oh never, eat Custard again! 

Oh murthering Sentence — Oh, ho, ho! 
Alon. Never, never O Inhumane Correction ! 

Oh, they begin again Oh. 

The Devils Sing. 

1 De. Who are the pillars of the wenching Trade ? 

2 De. The zealous professor, and brisk City blade. 

3 De. The Gallants, and Bullies, 

Do often grow poor, and bare, and bare. 

4 De. But these Canters, and close City Cullies 

Are ne'r without Money, or Ware. 
I De. What Slave permits 
Such Hypocrites 
In^peace to last of all our sweets ? 

Sc. 2~\ The Enchanted Castle 129 

2 De. In the midst of their joyes, they discoveries fear, 

3 De. And their Wives, if ih'ave any, shall make the 

score clear. 

4 De. With Claps, and with Duns, we torment them all 

And at night we take them and their Doxies 


Chorus. With Claps &c. 

And at night &c. 

Alon. Pox o'the Devil, 'tis too true, they did take our 
Doxies away. 

Gon. Ay, and I would procure 'em a whole Regiment, 
for my Ransome. 

Alon. Alass, they were but Oysters before their meale ; 
besides they were so rotten, they would melt in their 
mouthes, all their bones were turn'd to gristle : We are 
kep'd for the standing Dish. 

Gon. Nay, then I am safe enough, for I have no more 
standing Dish, then a post, my hearts no bigger then a 

Alon. My poore Boy Quakero's, gone too, Oh, ho, ho! 

The Devils Sing. 

1 De. Say, say, 

Shall we take up these Rogues, and Carry them 

With a tory, rory, Tory, rory, rory, Red-Coats ? 

2 De. Aye, aye. 

3 De. Aye, aye. 

4 De. Aye, aye. 

1 De. Aye, aye. 

Chorus. With a Tory, rory, Tory, rory, rory, rory. 

2 De. No, No, 

'Till we show them their Crimes, let e'm stay. 
With a Tory, rory, Tory, rory, rantum, scantum. 

3 De. Let 'em stay. 


130 The Mock-Tempest^ or [Act 11 

4 De. Let 'em stay. 

1 De. Let 'em stay. 

2 De. Let 'em stay. 

Chorus. With a Tory, rory, Tory, rory, rory, rory. 

I De. Cabbage is windy, and Mustard is strong, 

But a Lass with a wide Mouth, and a liquorish 

Will give thee the Palsie, though never so young. 
Then first let their Pride, let their Pride come 

Chorus. Cabbage. 

But a Lass 

Will give- 

Then first 

Enter Pride, represented by a Painted, gaudy Woman, 
with a Glass in her hand. 

She Sings. 

Pride. Lo here, here is Pride, that first left them aside. 
An honest true Trojan, and then she dy'd. 
Enter Fraud, a female Quaker Sings. 

Fraud. With upright look, and speech sincere. 
In publick, I a Saint appear. 
But in private I put out the light. 
And I serve for a Whore, or a Baud. 
I have taught them to cheat. Swear, and Fight, 
For by Yea, and by Nay, I am Fraud. 

Enter Rapine, drest Uke a Padder, with a Pistole in his 


Rapine. Send out a Scout 
To yonder Hill. 
Stand, and deliver. 
You dogg, must I wait. 
I'm thy fate : 

Sc. 2] The Enchanted Castle 131 

Dispatch, or I'l send thee to Hell. 
From Fraud, they thus proceed to force. 
And then I Rapine, guide their Cotirse. 

Enter Murther. 
A man drest all in Red, with two Bloody Daggers in his 
hands, and his Face and Hands stain'd with blood. 

Murther. Wake Duncan ! would thou couldst. 
Disguis'd with blood, I lead them on, 

Until to Murther they arrive. 
Then to the Gallows they run. 
Needs must they go, whom the Devils drive. 

I Devil Sings. 
Alass poor Mortals. 
They gape like the Earth, in the Dogg-dayes. 
What a rare life the Frogg has ? 
Drawer, Drawer. 
2 De. Anon, Anon. 
I De. Give 'em drink, or they'r gone, 
E'r their torment's began. 
Pour, pour, pour, pour. 
Heark, heark, how it hisses, 
See, see, how it smoaks : 
Who refuses such Liquor as this is. 
May he pine, may he pine, may he pine 
'Till he choakes. 
Chorus. Heark, &c. 

The Devils sing, and Dance ro\m6. Alonzo , and Gonzalo. 
Chorus. Around, around. 

Around, around, around. 
Let's sing, and tear the ground. 
There's no such sport below. 
Where sinfull mortals go. 

\Exeunt all the Devils. 

132 The Mock-Tempest, or [Act 11 

Gon. Oh, oh, are you alive my Lord Duke. 

Alon. I cannot tell. Ah, ha, Feel me, feel me, what 

a drench they gave us, sure 'twas Spirit of Brimstone. 
1 am all in a flame. 

Gon. Their design, is to roast us as some do Geese, 
by putting a hot Iron in their bellies, I begin to drip, 
they may make a Sop in the Pan already. 

Alon. Anon they'l cut off slivers from us, as they did 
from the whole Ox, in St. James's Fair. 

Gon. Oh, 'tis intollerable : methinks I hear a great 
she Devil, call for Groats worth of the Crispe of my 
Countenance. They are all for Gristle. 

Alon. Another cries Six-peny- worth of the brown, 
with Gravy, Shalot, and Pepper, Oh there's a Collop 

Gon. Shalot, and Pepper, was well thought of, for if 
I am not well season'd, there's no eating of me. 

Alon. Indeed old Lord, you have a kind of Ven'zon 

Gon. How can it be otherwise, my Lord, when I'me 
roasted with the guts in my belly ? 

Alon. If Shat'lin, or Locket had us, what Olio's, 
Raggous, and Pottages, would they make ? 

Gon. So new a Dish never came from France, they 
would get the Devil and aU by us. 

Alon. We should out-stink French Cheese. 

Gon. O help help, here's Raw-head and Bloody 
bones, the Master Cook of Hell. 

[A noise of horrid Musick ; a Devil arises with 
a Crown of Fire. 

Arise, arise, ye Subterranean Feinds, 
Come claw the hacks, of guilty hinds : 
And all ye filthy Drabs, and Harlots rise. 
Which use f infect the Earth with Puddings, and hot 
Pies ; 

Sc. i] The Enchanted Castle 133 

Rise ye who can devouring glasses frame, 
By which Wines pass to th' hollow Womb, and Brain : 
Engender Head-akes, make hold elbows shake, 
Estates to Pimples, and to desarts turne. 

And you whose greedy flames mans very entrals burne. 
Ye ramping queans, who ratling Coaches take, 
Though y'ave been fluxed 'till Head and Body shake. 
Come Clap these Wretches 'till their parts do swell : 
Let Nature never make them well. 
Cause Leggs, and Arms to pine, cause loss of hair. 
Then make them howl with Anguish, and sad groans. 
Rise and obey, rise and obey. Raw head and bloody bones. 

[Exit Devils. 

Devils arise with Bellows, and hlovf Alonzo, a.nd Gonzalo, 

off the Stage. 

A Dance. 

The End of the Second Act. 

Act III. Scene i. 

Enter Stephania, with a Pitcher, Beantosser, and 
Moustrappa, all drunk. 

Steph. ^T^HERE was a noble Marquess, 
1 Took up his Maidens carkass. 

Fast by the Fire side. 
A very homely Damsel, 
Her lips were soft as Lambs wool. 
Or marrow Pasty-fri'd. 
This is but a kind of a doleful Tune, to beat Hemp to, 
but hang't lets squeeze the Picher, here's to thee my 
doughty Amazon. 

Bean. Right reverend Trot-up-and-down, I'le do thee 
reason here Moustrappa. 

Steph. Come bouze it about, and a fico for the Justice. 
Fortunes a Whore, and will be kind to her Sisters. 

134 T^he Mock-Tempest^ or [Act in 

Mous. Of the first Five men, we met Three were 

Johns, and Four of those were Cukolds, Which is a 

good sign, and so squeez the juice. 

Bean. A strong point of Consolation, let me kiss thee 

for that, thou pretty, pocky, well favour'd Crack. 

Staph. Fill the Dish Molly, 

And think of a Cully. 
Here's a health to the best. 
Give us more Drink, a Surgeon that's jolly. 
And a pox take the rest. 
UoWy fill. ^ 
We cry still. 
Fill again, and drink round. 
'Till we empty the Pitcher, and fill up the Crown. 

Bean. Hold, hold, our Sister is grown hollow hearted, 
and like a jilting Quean, forsakes us in our Tribulation. 

Mous. Tis ev'n what I look'd for, The last Dish 

came as slow, and frothy, as the last words of a declaring 

Bean. When the Spirit sinks down his Throat, and 
rattles like the departing Water in a leaky Pump. 

Steph. Blame her not, you hear she is sound still, ha! 
wilt thou so ? {Knocks the Pitcher. 

Why thats very fair, She sayes, she will do w'ye for 

a Groat a time, 'till you are not able to stand : I'le be 
hang'd if the worst Jugg in Town, will do cheaper. 

Bean. Look Moustrappa Weeps, Hang losses, 

though our Dancing Schooles ruin'd, we have sav'd our 
Instruments : And as long as Men drink, and Women 
paint, we shall still jog on. 

Steph. There are more of our Dulcimers thump'd 
ev'ry Night in Covent-Garden, then there are Ghittars 
scrap'd in a Week, in Madrid ; therefore I say, staunch 
thou false hearted misbeleiving Jewes-Trump, do not 

Sc. i] The Enchanted Castle 135 

many industrious Females live well by bidding Gentle- 
men welcome to Town, singing at their Chamber doors ? 

Bean. And trucking their English small Wares, for 
French Toyes. 

Mous. O this was a dreadful bout for poor Moustrappa. 
In robbing me, they pillag'd six Brokers: ruind my 
Credit and quite kUl'd my old dealer, honest Jack the 
Mercer; for just as I had brought his Body to such a 
state, that none else would touch him so that I could 
set my own rates, they took me from him ; the French 

Farendine, he gave me for a Gown is gone too. But 

let the World rub, when 'tis at worst 'twill mend. 

Bean. The devil take thee, for putting me in mind of 
my losses : hang me if I can forbear weeping too. 

Steph. Then thou art in danger of drowning for the 
water's above thy mouth, and there's no passage by the 
Nose, for the bridge was down long ago; and so she 
prai'd me to tell ye. 

Bean. My friend is a brisk French Merchant, I knew 
him a Taylors Trotter : but from 3 Ounces of Jessimy- 
butter, halfe a Pound of Powder, and 6 pair of Jessimy- 
Gloves, by cheating the King of his Customes, and his 
feUow Subjects of their Money, he's come to his beaten 
Farendine Suit ev'ry day : had not this befall'n me, I 
had reduc'd him to his first being, and I had hazarded 
the saving of his Soul, by the ruine of body, and estate. 

But he is but repreiv'd, the pox will take him, 

for he is a Termagant at laced Mutton. 

Steph. Mischeif light on ye both, for minding me of 
my losses ; there was scarce a Manchild in Town, gentle, 
or simple, from Fifteen to Threescore, that did not pay 
me Tribute. When I walk'd the Streets, the Shop- 
keepers bow'd, the Prentices wink'd; If five, or six 
Gallants stood in the way, Lord what rustling and 

cringing was there to Madam Stephania ? Aunt, cries 

one, how does my little Neece ? The Aunt, and the 

136 The Mock-Tempest^ or [Act iii 

Neece, may both be damn'd, for any thing you care to 
please : me he sKps a Guinny. When shall we cut up 

the Giblet Pye ? cryes another. Go y'are a wag, cry 

I : there's halfe a Peece. Sales a third, is there never a 
fresh Runlet tap'd? yes quoth I, but you shall be 
hang'd e're you lick your lips with it ; and so she praid 
me to tell ye : still something's coming, for every now 
and then slips in a close thriving Tradesman, look ye 
Mrs. quoth he, I do not use these things, but the case 
is thus, I'le be at a word, I want a Wench, give me good 
sound ware, here's your Money, ready Money : I won't 
build Sconces, and bilk you, as your Gentlemen Bullies 
do, let me have weight and measure, one words as good 
as a thousand. Well quoth I, put your bus'ness into 
my hand, I'le use a Conscience, aye, and I did too, for 
as I hope for freedome; sometimes I have hardly got 
8i. in the Shilling. But such were sure Customers, they 
never left me for fear of discovery. Oh ! I could tell you 
such stories of Vestry-men^ and Burgesses, as would 

make the Bells ring backwards, i'faith, Me, and my 

bus'ness, was the whole talke of the Town, but all was 
kep'd secret, not a word mention'd, unless 'twer in some 

Coffee-house, or the Streets. But now they all 

forsake me but 'twill rub out when 'tis dry, and so 

I squeeze. 


Tough Hemp must we beat ? 

Dry Bread must we eat, 

And be bumbled, andjumbl'd, andgrumbl'd at too, too, too. 

And drink nothing, but Wat, Wat, Water that's cold ? 

Then Harry, and Mary, be merry and cheery, as long's we 

can do, do, do. 
And drive away sorrow, untill we are old. 
Come bouze it about, and lets squeeze out the Pitcher. 
He's a Rogue that stands out, and shall ne'r be the Richer. 
Bean. Heres Ten go downs upon Re. Moustrappa. 

Sc. i] The Enchanted Castle 137 

Mous. Put rem to't or I renounce thee. 

Bean. Renounce me Puss, not pledge me, thou salt 
Suburbian Hackney, not pledge me. 

Mous. Well Mrs. Beantosser, I hant stood three years 
at Livery, and been hyr'd for 6d. a side on Holydaies, by 
Chimny- Sweepers, and Coblers 'Prentices, I hant so. 

Bean. Who has Mrs. Gillian flirt ! Mrs. To and agen, 
who has ? 

Mous. I name no body, but touch a gall'd Horse, and 
he'l wince. 

Bean. But I know who has been taken up in the 
common, and rode so many heats that they got the 
French, fashions that was ev'n your own sweet Monkey 
face, I scorne to go behind your crooked back to tell 
you so. 

Steph. Fight Dog, fight Bear, stiU here's the juice of 

Mous. I never danc'd naked at the French house for 
Mild-Sixpences, goody Lerry-come-twang. 

Steph. Out, out, that's old, that's old. 

Bean. Nor I never walk'd the Streets at Night, stark 
naked in a Buckram Suit, trim'd with black Ribons at 
the Codpeice, Mrs. Gincrack, Mrs. Nimble-go-through. 

Steph. No, no, that thou didst not old Tru-peny, that 
was the Tailors Wife, but 'tis old too. 

Bean. Who dress'd her self in mans cloathes to 
commit with another Womans Husband under his 
natural Wifes nose, not you ? 

Mous. Who goes ev'ry Night upon Water to see men 
swim on their backs, and show beastly triks, not 
Beantosser, no ? 

Bean. Who uses to be drunk at Tavernes tear her 
friends Wigs, and then give all the Money, she has for 
a frisk with the Drawer, not Mrs. Betty Moustrappa ? 

Mous. Who storms the Fort in private with a Lea- 
thern Gun. 

138 The Mock-Tempest^ or [Act in 

Bean. Go y'are a mean spirited Crack, to be kep'd by 
a Club of 'Prentices : and so she praid me to tell ye. 

Mous. 'Tis better to receive smaU ware then give 
broad Gold, as thou doest like a silly Trapes. 

Bean. The foul names thy own, and Tie dash it down 
thy Throat. 

Mous. Help, help, murther, she'l murther me. 

Steph. Hold, hold, hold, keep the Kings Peace, I say 
keep the Peace, do you not tremble to use such bug 
words, if any body should hear you it would bring a 
scandal on the house, and make 'em think us Whores, 
Restore her nose Moustrappa, and you Beantosser, give 
back her Eye-brows : I say squeeze the juice, and let 
acts of Hostility cease, I was governaunt at home, and 
I will be justice of Peace here. 

Bean. I wiU have no Justice. 

Steph. Beantosserhe orderly, and thou shalt bemy Clerk, 

Mous. No private bribery to Corrupt Justice, and to 
show that I desire all things may be done without favour 
or selfishness, let Beantosser be hang'd, and give me her 
cloathes, and so I squeeze. 

Bean. Justice, an't please your Worship, I'le swear the 
peace against her. 

Steph. Bear back, bear back, good People don't press 

upon the Court. Constable stand by me, and go 

fetch the offender before me. 

Bean. I command thee to come before my Lord 

Justice. No good people will ye ayd and assist me, 

We are resolved to assist Mr. Constable Beantosser 

to the death. La you there now. 

Mous. The Justice is an Ass, the Constable a Sheeps- 
head, and all the good People a Whore, and a Baud: 
and so she pray'd me to tell ye. 

Bean. Grant me a humming Warrant to compel her 
to come before you volens nolens of her own accord. 

Steph. How, how, thou art an evil Counsellor, and a 

Sc. i] The Enchanted Castle 139 

Traytor ; thou seekest to deprive me of my honourable 
Imployment byforce quoth'a, no, some wiser then some : 
I am a Justice of peace, and must keep the peace. But 
if I grant a Warrant to compel, I break the Peace. If 
she comes, she comes, all must be done in a peacefuU 
way : Volens nolens quoth'a. 

Bean. Right Worshipfull, 'tis a common way to grant 
a Warrant. 

Steph. Ay, ay, 'tis so common that we Magistrates 
are all the worse for't, it makes justice so cheap that no 
People of fashion care for using any. 

Bean. An't please your Worship, 

Steph. Please me, and please thy self, I say still. 

Bean. To accept this small present ? 

Steph. Hay! more Plots, how darst thou corrupt 
Justice, thou Treacherous Strumpet ! devour the bowels 
that gave thee Suck ? Now do I know she wants Justice, 
because she would buy it — Clerk, take up the Bribery, 
and give it to the poor : since my Clerk is absent I wUl 

vouchsafe to do it my self. But did this audacious 

Tatter-de-maUion declare with her own Corporal voyce, 
that she would not come before us ? 

Mous. I did, and I do again send thee word by my 

self, that thou shalt come before me, If thou wilt 

not, I command thee to stay there, and so I squeeze. 

Steph. Does the Rebel send word, her self being 

present, that she wUl not appear? it stands not 

with our high place to put up such affronts. Head- 
Constable, knock her down, and keep the Peace. 

[Beantosser and Moustrappa fight. 

Steph. So now the whole Courts in an uproar, fight, 

'tUl the DevU part you. Hold, hold, fall off, and unite 

against the common Enemy. 

Enter Hectorio, and Drinkallup, drunk and Singing. 

Drink. Francky, was his name a. 

And Francky was his name a ; 

I40 The Mock-Tempest^ or [Act iii 

His Beard was black, and his Gills were Red, 
And his Bill was all of the same a. 
With weapon full sharp, he fought 'till he was dead, 
With a Heycock of the game a. 

And Francky was his name a. 

And with weapon Sec. 

Hect. Francky 's dead, and gon a. 

Poor Franchy's dead, and gon a : 
Thy hrowes are black, and thy lips are Red, 
And thy bellies soft as the down a. 
Let me be thy Worm, and at every turn, 
I will tickle thy flesh, and bone a. 

Then pri'thee cease they moan a. 
Since Francky's dead, and gon a. 
Let me &c. 

Steph. Silence in the Court, to keep a sound Peace, I 
make you both my High-Constables of Westminister. 

Bean. 1 * j j 


Steph. Then by Virtue of my Warrant, which shall 
be made when we are at leasure, bring those disturbers 
of the Peace before me. 

Bean. Woman, leave thy babbhng, and come before 
the Justice. 

Mous. Hectorio, be uncover'd in the Court, and obey 
the Officers. 

Hect. What Court ? what Officers ? 

Bean. Why Stephania is Justice of Whorum, and we 
are both Head-Constables. 

Hect. Then Officers, look to your Throats, for there 
will be above Ten thousand up in Armes to Night. 
Sings. And their bellies soft as the down a. 

Steph. He has contest, and shall be hang'd 'till he's 
dead. Come thou Rake-hell, villain, dog, where are they, 
what's their design, who leads 'em on, who brings 'em 

Sc. i] The Enchanted Castle 141 

off, make his Mittimus, before he answers, and send him 
to Tyburn. 

Hect. Old touch and go, why so hasty ? My Lord 

Bacchus leads 'em on : my Lady Venus brings 'em off : 
their design is to rise up in their Beds, at midnight, to 
stab all the Women, and behead all the Virgins they 

Drink. Sings With a Key-cock of the game a. 

Bean. O inhumane Canihals ! 

Mous. Let 'em do their worst, the Women will be 
hard enough for 'em, man to man. 

Steph. And I believe the Virgins had notice of their 
design, for there is not one left in my Liberties : Head- 
constables, dispatch this Westminster Wedding, I say, 
tye 'em up. 

Bean. Won't your Worship examine the Woman ? 

Steph. I say, take her away, shes a Pick-pocket I 
know, by her lac'd shooes: besides, heark ye, she's a 
Witch, she carries an enchanted Ring about her which 
turns Rich men to beggers, and makes an Ass of a 
Justice of Peace. 

Drink. Gentlemen of the Jury, this Villain is no 
honester then he should be, he rob'd me of a dozen of 
precious Turpentine guilt Nutmegs, and a Pewter 

Hect. Which is flat felony, for that's the Iron work 
to her Plough, without which it must stand still, and 
her Familiars must starve: and so she prayed me to 
tell ye. 

Drink. But because the old Rogue is a true friend to 
the Chuck-of&ce, I care not much if I save him, there- 
fore you may bring in the Fellony, Man-slaughter. 

Hect. Gentlemen, I am a Witness for the King, and 
so lets squeeze all round. 

Mous. Art thou her Cozen after the flesh? 

142 The Mock-Tempest^ or [Act in 

Drink. No, he is my Husband's Brother, for they 
tumbl'd both in one Belly. 

Bean. Then thy Husband has a whole Legion of 
Brothers, for halfe the Town have tumbl'd in the same 
place : and so she pray'd me to tell ye. 

Steph. Woman, put me in good Bail, or take her away 

Hect. Hold, hold, what Bail dost thou demand ? 

Steph. Two substantial Citizens, Aldermens fellowes, 
or common Councel men, but no Cuckolds. 

Drink. No Cuckolds, Jaylor take me away, hold, 

heark you. If you'l take a Hundred that are Cuckolds, 
by the help of my friends here they shall be produc'd 

presently. Nay don't bob down your heads, I did 

but try him. 

Steph. No, no! no Cuckolds. 

Hect. This is fiat Tyrany, thou maist as well demand 
a Tribute of Maiden-heads in the Teens : but Miracles 
are ceas'd. 

Steph. What is this notorious talking Rogue in for? 

Mous. For Robbing of the Vestry. 

Steph. How Sirrah, who made you a Church- Warden ? 

Mous. 'Tis but a Vestry matter, and may be agreed 
at the next Tavern. 

Bean. Who will pay Scot and lot, as they say, and 
serve in all under Offices of trouble, if every Rascal shall 
usurp that very Office, where they may reward them- 
selves ? 

Steph. Ay, without Authority, or paying a farthing 
for't, when 'tis well known substantial House-keepers 
have given hundreds for't. 

Bean. Yes, and thriv'd upon't too, with a blessing on 
their pious endeavours. 

Steph. Head Constables take 'em away to Limbo. 

Hect. We defie thee, and thy Head-Constables, to 
mortal battle. 

Sc. 2] The Enchanted Castle 143 

Steph. Then blood will ensue : and so she prai'd me 

to tell ye. Sound a charge, and keep the Peace. 

{Musick plays, they dance, and Exeunt. ^ 

Act III. Scene 2. 

Enter Ariel, and Quakero. 
Ariel Sings. 

C^OLLOW me, follow me, hey jolly Robin. 
■^ The Moon shines bright. 

And Women are light, 
And most men had rather eat then fight. 

Then leave off your Coging. 
And follow me, and follow me hey jolly Robin. 

Quak. Fo^w corners on my bed, 

Four beauties there ly spred. 
If any evil come to me, 
goodness sweet deliver me. 
Blessed be thanked, it is now again departed ; this 
Charme I learn'd in the days of my Paganis-me, before 
I attain'd to the in-working and the bowel-yernings of 
the outgoing of the over-flowings ; but now that I am 
mounted into the Saddle, and exalted to the House top, 
and hfted on the sounding Tub of reformation, I am 
above the Fruit-mongers of the hard Streets of stony- 
heartedness: and I am above thee Satan ha it 

Cometh again. 

Four corners on my bed. 

Ariel Sings. 
Turn thy Stocking, and tye thy Shooe hard. 
Thy mouth being wash'd, and wip'd thy beard. 
Come away, come lets be jogging. 
Bo, bo, bo, bo, 
Heark, heark, how the Bettern bellows : 
Now is the time for good fellows. 

a 44 '^he Mock-Tempest ^ or [Act iii 

To it— to it — to it — to it. 

The Citizens Wife. 
Leads a merry, merry life, 
While her Husband at home does grunt and groan. 
Whoo whoo 00 00 oo — whoo ooo oo. 
Alas poor man he is sick of the yellow es. 

Cuckoe, cuckoe. 
Heark, heark, what the little birds tells us. 
Cuckoe, cuckoe, cuckoe. 
Quak. Torment me no more thou Hobgoblin, thou 
i?o5m-goodfellow, thou Will with a wisp, thou Spright, 

thou Fairy, thou, thou nothing, thou something ha, 

what should this be, assuredly here hath been some 
Crouder slain against his consent, or murther'd wrong- 
fully, or else 'tis the Soul of some profane Singing-man 
that rejoyceth and gibeth at the death of the Duke my 
father. Oh ! O ! O ! it comes again. 
Four corners on my bed. 
Four beauties 

Ariel Sings. 
Youth, youth of mortal race, give ear. 
Thy Daddies dead, thy Daddies dead. 
To Stocks his feet, to Pillory his Ear, 
To whip of thong his flesh is ay turned ; 
And tough battoon does thump his bone. 
hone, hone, hone, hone. 
Then little youth Nandy. 
Drink Ale and Brandy. 
His knell is hourly rung on his back. 
Heark now I hear it, thwick, thwick, thwack, 
Thwick &c. thwack. 

Quak. This dolefull madrigal sayes my Father is in 
Limbo, that is Mortus est, that is, he is dead, that is, he 
is departed, he is gone, he is fled, he is no more ; he is, 
he is, I say, he is, that is, he is not. 

Sc. i] The Enchanted Castle 145 

His feet Stock- fish, his ears Pilchards, his flesh 

Thornhack, and Tough Battoon does thump his bone. 
hone, hone, hone, hone. 

Friend Quakero, this is no mortal business, though 
thou hast done Satan right noteable service in perverting 
many, beUeve him not, I say believe him not : hast thou 
forgot how it was resolv'd in a full dispute, where a 
friend, ev'n Guly Penno, declared that Satan was a Iyer, 
nay thou hast not forgot, believe him not, yet I will go 
to find out and be satisfi'd in the truth of the lye. 

Ariel. Thwick, thwick, thwick, &c. [Exit Ariel. 

Quak. Hark, it is there again, it luggeth me by the 
Ears, even as a Swine is lugged by a Mastiffe-dog : or 
as one of your wicked Idolatrous Misses is led by the 
ratthng of a guilt Coach, or as, as I say, or as ah ha em, 
or as ah a aa. 

So much for this time. [Exit Quakero. 

The End of the Third Act. 

Act IV. Scene i. 

Enter Prospero, and Ariel. Prospero eating a peece of 
Bread and Butter. 

Pros. IV T OW does the charm'd impostume of my Plot 
1 >l Swell to a head, and begin to suppurate, 
If I can make Mantua's Infant Duke, 
Switchel my young giglet Dorinda. 
Sincere Quakero to my power bends. 
And shall with my discreet Miranda yoak. 
Or be tormented ever here, 
In my enchanted Castle of Bridewellow. 

Great pity 'tis for he's a pretty fellow. 

Ari. What says my mighty and most potent Master. 


146 The Mock-Tempest^ or [Act iv 

Fros. How do these right puissant Ragamuffins bear 
their durance ? 

An. The Duke with haughty meen, for lack of food, 
Sits cracking Fleas, and sucking of their blood. 
With him is good Gonzale. 

Pros. Is he so, Adsbud. 

[Throwes away Ms Bread and Butter, in passion. 

Ari. From eyes of Glass the gummy tears that fall 
Down Iv'ry beard like Christal vermine crawl. 
The rest are picking strawes, and so that's aU. 

Pros. Where is Quakero, that young Princely Sprout ? 

Ari. Like Lanthorn-jack I led him all about. 
And now he's blowing of his nailes without. 

Pros. Alass poor Trout. 

Ari. I have so gally'd 'em, 'twould make your Graces 
hair stand on end to see how they look ; though your 
heart more stony was then Coblers wax i'th' dog days, 
'twould make it in your mouth dissolve like Culvers dung. 

Pros. Do'st thou think so Spirit ? 

Ari. It makes mine open and shut, open and shut, 
like a fat Hostesses greazy Pouch, so it does : and then 
the poor old Gentlewoman and her daughters have almost 
torne one another to peeces 1 pity them. 

Pros. And I will hast thou that art so young a 

Spirit, so little too had a touch a feeling of their 

Case, and shall not I have a relish ? Well, Ariel go 

let a Table be brought to them furnish 'd with most 
sumptuous Cates, but when they try to eat, let two 
great Babboons be let down with ropes to snatch it away. 

Ari. O Sir Punchanello did that at the Play-house. 

Pros. Did he so then bend thy ayry ear. 


Ari. More toyle 1 pry 'thee now let me mind thee 

of thy promise then where is my Two-penny Custard ? 

Pros. Ho now moody, doe'st thou murmure ? 

Ari. No my Lord! 

Sc. i] The Enchanted Castle 147 

Pros. Thou ly'st. Malignant thing, thou dost. 

Ari. I pri'the my Lord, ben't so touchy. 

Pros. Hast thou forgot the hairy Woman I freed thee 
from, who sent thee ev'ry morning down her Gorman- 
dizing throat with a Candle and Lanthorn, to tread the 

Ooze of the salt deep ? At other times she made thee 

pass up against the strong Northern blasts, when the 
capacious Bay was bak'd with brandy 'tiU thou hadst 
clear'd thy passage to her nose, on whose sulph'rous top 
thou sat'st Singing hke a little Chimny Sweeper, hast 
thou forgot her ? 

Ari. No my dread Lord. 

Pros. If thou more murmur'st, in some small dimple 
of her Cheek I'le peg thee, where Twelve Sommers more 
thou shalt lye stewing like a Maggot in a Holland Cheese. 

Ari. O pardon great Sir this once, and I will be a good 
Boy, and never do so more. 

Pros. Then do as I commanded, but make hast least 

the Conjurers of to'ther House steal the Invention 

thou know'st they snatch at all Ingenious tricks. 

Ari. I fly most potent Sir. [Exit Ariel flying. 

Pros. Now for the infant Duke of Mantua. Hypolito 
my Child come forth. 

Enter Hypolito playing with Nickers. 

Hyp. Anan, anan, forsooth you Sir, don't you 

stir the Nickers, Tie play out my game presently. 

Pros. Come gentle youth, exalt thy ducal chin, for 
thou shalt have a Wife my boy. 

Hyp. A Wife Sir ! what's that, I never saw it ? 

Pros. No my boy, but they are now so common, 
young men can hardly walk the streets for them. 

Hyp. Don't go away, you Sir, I do but stay for a Wife, 

and then I'le play out my game O good Sir, let me 

have it quickly. 

Pros. And so thou shalt, for my daughters sake; if 
he should know Wives were growing out of fashion, I 

148 Ihe Mock-Tempest^ or [Act iv 

fear he would not marry, for the stripling has a gentile 
fancy, I see by the neatness of his cloathes. 

Hyp. Will it play at Bullet with me ? 

Pros. Ay and Cat, and Trap-ball too. 

Ryp. What is it like Sir ? what is it like ? 

Pros. 'Tis so inconstant I scarce know what to liken 
it to, 'tis stiU unsatisfi'd, restless and wrigling like an Eel. 

Ryp. O pray let me have it then ; I love Eels mightily. 

Pros. But like an Eel 'twill slip from thee. 

Hyp. But rie bite it by the tail then, and shake it 
'till it hes still. 

Pros. A shrew'd youth! well thou shalt have it, 'tis 
beautiful as a CoUy-fiower, but like that too, when 'tis 
kep'd long, nothing is more unpleasant. 

Ryp. O Sir ! I won't keep it long. 

Pros. A very hopeful Lad ! But it won't part from 


Kyp. Then I'le beat it, and kick it, and run away 

Pros. Modishly said y'gad, still hopeful but she'l 

save thee that trouble, and leave thee as soon any other 
will keep her ; for she's wild and skittish as an unbackt 

Hyp. Is it Hke a Colt? O Lemine! then I'le ride 

Pros. Alass poor youth! thou wilt soon be tir'd, and 
thrown off. 

Hyp. No Sir, I shall never be weary of Riding ; and 
I'le hold so fast by the Mane and the Tail, that I won't 
faU off. 

Pros. O fie, you must not use it like a Beast. 

Hyp. What must I do with it then ? 

Pros. Why you must eat and drink with it. 

Hyp. What is it a Fork, and an Earthern-Pot then ? 

Pros. No, but she may make Forkes, and crack too 
many Pots. 

Sc. i] The Enchanted Castle 149 

Hyp. Then she shall teach me to make Forks. 

Pros. Hold there you must enjoy none but her. 

Hyp. Enjoy, ah ha! enjoy! what a word is there? 
enjoy! O rare! ^what is enjoy Sir? 

Pros. Why, that is to be happy. 

Hyp. Enjoy to be happy, then I'le enjoy all the Wives 
in the World; For I love to be happy Sir: en- 

Pros. I'le teU you more hereafter ; go in and read your 
Horn-book, that Treatise of Abstruse Philosophy I gave 
you last. 

Hyp. I go forsooth. [Exit Hypolito. 

Pros. Now by my best hopes, a shrew'd youth, a very 

shrew'd youth, and a notable head-peace I'm glad 

he's grown so prudent. If all that Marry in this Age of 
Hberty were so Politick, we should see better times. 
Enter Hypolito crying. 

Hyp. Olo! olo! olo! Oh, ho, ho, ho! 

Pros. What's the matter? what grand intrigue of 
Fate can reach to the disturbance of thy manly Soul ? 

Hyp. Manly Soul, quoth a, 'twould disturb any mans 
Soul: I'me undone Sir, while I was talking with you 
about a Wife, Tom Bully stole away my stones. 

Pros. Hah thy stones, what stones ? 

Hyp. Why my bowling stones. O ho ho. now I can't 
teach my Wife to play Nickers. 

Pros. I'me glad 'tis no worse ; O fie, fie my Lord, you 
must leave off this boyes Play now, and learn to play 
with Children; go, go in. 

Hyp. By never, I'le pay that Rogue Tom Bully, when 
I catch him. [Exit HypoHto. 

Pros. Now I must instruct my Daughters. 

Long sleeps and pleasures follow ev'ry Novice : 
But plots and cares, perplex grave men of 

Ye Gods! 

150 The Mock-Tempest^ or [Act iv 

More blest are men of mean and low condition, 
Then Bridewell-\&&^&c: is, or sage Magician. 

[Exit Prospero. 

Act IV. Scene 2. 

Enter Miranda, and Dorinda. 
Dor. f~\ii Sister! I have such a twittering after this 

V^ Husband, 
And my mouth doth so run in a civil way. 

Mir. Are you not breeding Teeth Sister ? 

Dor. Zooks, if I am the King, shall know't. 

Mir. ' Vads Sister, ever since my Father told me of it, 
which is at least six Hours ago, I can't rest Day, nor 
Night, for ought I know. 

Dor. Its hole's hereabout, whereof looky' my Father 
said that it should get me with Child pray. 

Mir. O lo ! get you with Child, what's that ? 

Dor. I can't tell, but I do so shake and laugh when I 
think oft. 

Mir. Heigh ho ! whereof Sister you are affraid ? 

Let it come to me, vads Sister I won't be affraid. 

Dor. Zooks Sister, if my Father should send a hun- 
dred to get me with Child in a civil way, I wouldn't be 

Mir. O but Sister, whereof looky', my Father said 
that a Husband was wild as a Cock-Sparrow or a Curl'd- 
Lamb, that he did now pray. 

Dor. Then I would chirrip to't, and make it hop, and 
stroak it, and make it wag its tayl and Cry blea, 'tiU it 
'twas as tame as a little Lap-dog, but my Father says 
they are always gentle at home : and wild abroad. 

Mir. Whereof Sister heark ye, now lets leave this idle 
talk, and play the Scotch Morice. 

Dor. Then Tie play forward, and backward, for that's 
the way now. 

Sc. 2] The E?ichanted Castle 151 

Mir. No I won't play Boyes play, I'le tell you 

what, you should be a School Mistriss, and 

Bor. No Sister, no I'le tell you what ? You should be 
a Citizens Wife pray, and so I should be a Lord looky', 
and I should come in a Golden-Coach and be your 
Husbands Customer. 

Mir. Ay 'vads that's pretty. 

Dor. So I should meet you at the Play-House, and 
say Madam looky' 'tis a thousand pitties such a glazing 
Di'mond of beauty should be the SlaVe of a dull 
Mechanick Cit. and cry what d'ee lack ? Whereof you 
should cry then, O Lord Sir, you are mistaken Zooks. 

Mir. O Lord Sir, you are mistaken Zooks ! 

Bor. Then I should say Dam'ee Madam! you are a 
necklace for a Prince, I'le settle Three Pounds a Year 
upon you, and you shall have a Silver Baby, and a 
SUver house, and eat nothing but Golden Custards, and 
Silver-Stew'd-Pruines : then you should say whereof 
you have got a Wife of your own, my Lord ? 

Mir. Then you should say whereof you have gotten 
a wife of your own my Lord. 

Bor. Then I should throw my Wig, and say, Oh 
Madam! if you love me, name her not. She's so dull 
and musty, the very thought of her will make me swoun. 
Dam her. But you I doat upon. So then you should let 
me lye with you in a Civil way. 

Mir. O ay, ay, I love that y'vads! 

Bor. And then another should lye with you, and 
another, so at last you should be catch'd in a Baudy- 
house mth your Husbands under 'Prentice looky', 
and so be brought to Bridewell as Mrs. Tweedlehum was 
t'other day. 

Mir. No, no. Sister, I wont play so I'le tell y' 

what, lets play Truss-fayl, do pray now Sister. 

Bor. Come then, I'le lye down first. 

Mir. Truss. 

152 The Mock-Tempest^ or [Act iv 

Bov. Fayl. 

Mir. Send me well upon my Grey Nags taile. 
Sister, Sister! here's the Husband thing coming. 
Enter Hypolito reading gravely in a Horn-Book. 

Dor. Looky', looky', O sweet Father its Leggs are 
twice as long as ours. 

Mir. What's that before so trim'd up with yellow 
Pissabeds, and green Blew Bottles. 

Dor. See, see it pulls off half its head. 

Mir. Run Sister, run, I'me so affraid 'twill pull your 
head off too. 

Dor. Zooks ! I would rather lose a hundred Heads if 
I had 'em, then stir a foot. 

Mir. Oh! it looks angry, I'me so affraid for you 

Dor. Fear not me, if I offend it, I'le ly down and paw 
it with my Four-feet, as our Shock does when we beat it. 

Pros. (Within) Miranda, Miranda I 

Dor. O Sister ! my Father calls you, -whereof she 

sayes she won't come for'oth. 

Mir. She fibs, she fibs Father, 1 wou'd come, but 

I am not here for'oth you spiteful pissabed Slut. 

Dor. But you are here for'oth. 

Mir. I wonder y'are so simple Sister, as if I could not 
tell where I am better then you for ought I know. 

Dor. I will take Husband first that I will. 

Mir. Hussey, am not I the Elder ? 

Dor. Then you shou'dn't set your Wit against a Child. 

Mir. Well then Sister, I'le tell y'what, wee'l play 
heads or tails, who goes first, that's fair now, e'nt it ? 

Dor. Ay, and she that don't win shall lose and keep 
the door. 

Mir. Well ther's a good Girle, now toss up. 

Dor. A ha ! my tails turn'd up, you must watch. 

Mir. Good dear Sister have done quickly, prithee do 
for because you know why Sister. [Exit Miranda. 

Sc. 2] The Enchanted Castie 153 

Hyp. Prospero has often told me, Nature makes 

nothing in vain, why then is this kip kap here 'tis 

not aw nor e nor ee nor 00, nor I m n o-q-py you it 

strangely puzles me ; I'le ask him when I see him next. 

Dor. Thing, thing, fine long thing. 

Hyp. Bessy come bunny, come buy me some lace 
Sugarcandy, Cloves and Mace. Sure I am ready for a 
Wife now, I can read my abstruse Horn Philosophy. 

Dor. O Rare thing, it talkes just like one of us. 

Hyp. Ha what thing is that ? Sure 'tis some 

Infant of the Park, drest in her Mothers gayest beams 
of Impudence, and sent down here to play at Hemp 
and Beetle ; but stay, is not this that thing call'd Wife ? 
What art thou, thou fleering thing ? 

Dor. Alass I am a Woman, and my Father says I 
must be a Wife in a Civil way, pray thing don't be 

Hyp. Angry, no, I'le sooner break my Trapstick; 
mun if thou art that thing call'd Wife, which troubles 

poor men so that they can't Wench in quiet Prospero 

says that I must enjoy thee. 

Dor. If thou art that thing call'd Husband which art 
alwayes suUen and niggardly at home, but merry and 
expensive abroad, which feedst a Wife with tripe and 
Cowes heels, and treatest a Mrs. with Woodcock and 
Teale, and fine things, and at last turnest off a Wife with 
just enough to buy Bread and Cheese and worsted 
Farendine, but maintainst thy Miss like a Princess, my 
Father says thou must get me with Child for ought I 

Hyp. Get thee with Child, O lo! whats that? 

Dor. Whereof I can't tell, but I think you must dig 
it out of the Parsly-bed. 

Hyp. Show me the Parsly-bed then. 

Dor. I won't, you ha' got nothing to dig with : you 
said you must enjoy me, what's that pray? 

154 T^he Mock-Tempest^ or [Act iv 

Hyp. Why Prospero says you are like a Colt, and then 
■you should be backt. 

Dor. Phoe, I won't play so. 

Hyp. Won't you, then look to't, for you are but a 
Colly-flower, and though y'are so proud to day you'l 
stink to morrow. 

Dor. Zooks this is the silli'st Husband-thing I ever 
saw : I'le run into the Garden, and teach him more wit 
in a civil way. 

Hyp. Nay if you run from me like an Eel, I'le bite 
you by the tail. [Exeunt running after each other. 

Pros. (Within.) Miranda ! Dorinda ! Daughters, 
Daughters ! 

Enter Miranda hastily. 

Mir. Oh I 'me glad my Father comes, for when Fire 
and Flax are together, none knows how soon mischeif 
may be done. Dorinda, Dorinda, my Fathers coming. 
Enter Dorinda and Hypolito hastily. Hypolito runs off. 

Dor. O Sister pray lets Dance our new Heroick Song 
that our Father mayn't know who was here. 

They Sing and Dance. Enter Prospero observing them. 
Mir. Here comes a lusty Wooer, my dildin, my darling. 

Here comes a lusty Wooer Lady bright and shining. 
Dor. / Wooefor one of your fair Daughters, my dildin, 
my darling. 

I Wooe for &c. Lady bright &c. 

Mir. Fm glad I have one for you my dild, &c. 

Fm glad &c. Lady bright, &c. 

Dor. She looks too brown upon me my dild, &c. 

She looks, &c. Lady &c. 

Pros. Enough, enough, all this won't blind me, come, 
come, come stand, stand you here, and you there, nay, 
nay, nay, no whim'pring : 

Mir. Indeed, and indeed, pray Father, I did but keep 
the door. 

Sc. 2] 

The Enchanted Castle 155 

Pros. Didst thou keep the door for thy younger 
Sister ? 

Mir. Yes forsooth, pray Father, that I did. 

Pros. Blessing on thy pretty heart, cherish that 
gentile Motherly humour, thou hast a generous Soul; 
and since I see thy mind so apt to take the light im- 
pression of a modish Love, I will unfold a secret to 

thee ^That Creature, that thou saw'st, is a kind of a 

Creature which is much like another Creature, that shall 
be nameless, and that's Quakero. 

Mir. But Father, pray Father, shall that Quakero 
Creature be my Husband? You said I should have a 
Husband before she, that you did. 

Pros. Shortly my Miranda thou shalt see the flower 
of this bud; this Chit, chit, chit, chit, Cock-sparrow 
husband may serve thy Sister well enough, thou shalt 
have a ho-ho-ho-ho-Husband, a Horseman, go in I'le 
provide for thee. 

Mir. Let me have the ho-ho, quickly then pray 
Father. [Going out she returns again. 

Father, Father, I forgot to make my Cursy; b'wy 
Father. [Exit Miranda. 

Pros. Come hither Dorinda, why saw you this Hus- 
band without my order ? 

Dor. Who I ! truely I didn't saw'd him 'twas he saw'd 

Pros. Come, come, your Sister told me aU. 

Dor. Then she fibs for ought I know, for she would 
ha' seen him first, if I would ha' let her. 

Pros. TeU me what past between you ? 

Dor. Nothing pass'd between us but our great dog 

Pros. What did he do fee ? come confess. 

Dor. He did nothing, but I am affraid he wou'd if 
you hadn't come. 

Pros. Why, why speak out ? 

156 The Mock-Tempest^ or [Act iv 

Dor. Because he came towards me with his tail up 
as stiffe as any thing. 

Fros. Ha, I thought as much ; wha what did he do 
then ? the truth, I charge you. 

Dor. Why he did nothing but walk to his Kennel. 

Pros. Walk'd to his Kennel who ? 

Dor. Why our great dog Towzer. 
Pros. Pho, thou understandst me not, what did the 
Husband-thing do to thee ? 

Dor. Why nothing at all, for just as we got to the 
Parsly-bed, you frighten'd it away. 

Pros. I charge you see it no more, 'twill Poyson you, 
and make you swell as big as a house. 

Dor. Not see it, I'le run th'rough Nine Walls, but I'le 
see it, and have it to, though it make me swell 'till I 
break in peeces. 

Pros. Go get you in, y'are a naughty Girle. 
Dor. The World's come to a very fine pass for ought 
I know, one can't play with a thing an hour or two alone, 
or be in bed with a man, but one must be naught : I 
won't endure it much long, that I wont so. 

\Exit Dorinda. 
Pros. So — my wishing Pipe 

Has swell'd my hopeing Cistern to a Flood. 
Dorind' and Polito's agreed, that's good. 
Now for Miranda, and the youth Quakero ; 

When they are coupl'd too there ends my 

Care'o. [Exit Prospero. 

Act IV. Scene 3. 

Enter Alonzo, Gonzalo, and Antonio. 

Gon. 1\ /T Y hands are so tyr'd with stareing about for 

iVl meat, that my feet can look no further 

I must rest my old bones. 
Alon. Old Lord I cannot blame thee, for I am seiz'd 

Sc. 3] The Enchanted Castle i^y 

with such a griping, that I cannot rest. My Courtyers 

us'd to tell me I had no humane imperfection ; But here 
I will put off my hose and keep it no longer for my 
Flatterers. [Mustek as in Air. 

Gon. Ha, these are a sort of doggish greedy Devils, 
come to devour the meat e'r 'tis dish'd up. 

Anto. Do not for one repulse forgo the great design 
you were about to act. 

Gon. Oh help, help, something unseen has ty'd my 
hands behind me. 

Alon. Mine are stoUen away too, and 'tis well for 
'em, for my moiith is grown so angry for want of meat, 
that if they should again appear empty it would devour 

Anto. Sure tis the Devils hock-tide, for mine are 
bound too. 


Alon. O heark my fiends, 

I fear we shall behold another horrid sound. 

Gon. The Devil takes his time when we are bound. 

Alon. He thinks to save his Bacon, feeble feind. 

But with bound hands our hands we will unbind. 
Enter Ariel Singing. 

Dry your eyes, and cease your howling : 
For your Broath is set a Cooling. 
WMle y'are in this Castle staying, 
Eat and Drink, ne'r talk of paying. 
Wine and Women here are plenty, 
You shall last of ev'ry dainty. 
And as soon as you are weary. 
Here are Crowds to make you merry. [Exit Ariel. 

Alon. I marry this is comfortable. 
Anto. No Musick like that which powder 'd Beef Sings, 
A consort of Garrets with hey ding a ding. 

1 58 The Mock-Tempest^ or [Act v 

Gon. Wee'l dye for our meat, then our lives shall 
No butt'ring of Parsnips like long live and raign. 
O for a dainty vision of butter' d Neptunes 

And Nereides. 
Two Devils descend, bringing down a Table with meat and 

drink on it. 
Anto. See my Lord a stately Banquet, adzooks! 
Gon. First come, first serv'd. 

Alon. Happy man catch a Mackarell But stay is 

not this meat and drink brought to Poyson us ? 

Gon. Here may be more Spirit of Sulphur: but 
hungers sharp, and I wiU fast in spight of the Devil. 
Anto. And I will have a Soop. 

Alon. If both resolve, I'le take my part ; Devil do thy 

[As they try to eat, Gonzalo and Antonio are 
snatch' d up into the Air, and Alonzo sinks 
with the Table out of sight. 

The End of the Fourth Act. 

Act V. Scene i. 

Enter Quakero, and Ariel. 

Quak. T WILL be no longer seduced by Yea and Nay, 
1 I defie thee. 

Ari. I defie thee. 

Quak. Thou art a Torch of Darkness, and a Snuff of 
the Candle of the Socket, of the Dominion of Darkness. 

Ari. O minion of Darkness. 

Quak. Thou liest, I am no minion of Darkness, for 
look thee, a lye is a lye, but the truth is not a lye, and 
therefore thou art a Iyer because thou lyest, as one of us 
hath he is sweetly in his Scourge-stick of Prophanishness, 
he is a right precious one, truely, truly. 

Sc. i] The Enchanted Castle 159 

Ari. You lye, truely. 

Quak. Out thou reproacher of friends, thou Bearward' 
of the Bull and Mouth, thou Lambskinner of Lumbar d- 
street, thou waspish Woolf of Westminster, thou a a, I say 
thou um ah a, thou-avaunt, begone, fly, vanish, I defie 
thee, I abhor thee, I renounce thee, yea, I will scare- 
crow thee, I will top and scourge thee, and I will hum- 
guig thee, for I see by thy invisible Homes that thou 
art the very Devil. 

Ari. Thou art the very Devil. 

Quak. Out Dagon, Bell and the Dragon, I knew thee 
long agone. 

Ari. I knew thee long agone. 

Quak. What dost thou know of me ? Speak, say thy 

worst, what dost thou know of me ? 1 may fail, but 

I cannot fall, for I am a Friend a Chosen One 

of Us. 

Ari. A Chosen one of Us. 

Quak. None of thy Usses, Satan, none of thy Usses ; 
therefore cease to torment me, for I will not speak one 
word more. 

Ari. One word more. 

Quak. Nay but I will not 1 will Padlock my lips 

with Patience, and set the Porter of peaceishness at the 
Wicket of my Mouth, who shall knock thee down with 
the Silver head of saving-gableness which is on the long 
Cane of Conscientious Reproof : So that thou shaft no 
more enter into the Meeting-House of my heart, look 

thee Obadiah Cod, one of Us, who now sleep— eth 

did declare soundly what thou wert, and I find it all as 
Poor Cod said. 

Ari. Alas poor Codshead. 

Quak. Mock on, mock on, I will try if thou wilt 
answer me while I sing my Sorrows to the snapping of 
my Thumbes : thy gibing is all but nonsense. 

Ari. All but nonsense. 

i6o The Mock-Tempest^ or [Act v 

Quakero Sings. Ariel answers like an Eccho. 
Quak. How dost do ? 
An. How dost do ? 
Quak. What's that to you ? 
Ari. Whats &c. 

Quak. Pull out thy whistle, and tune up thy Pipe. 
Ari. Pull &c. 

Quak. Under yonder hollow Tree, Nan lyes asleep. 
Ari. Under Sec. 
Quak. Her thing is her own, and Fie bounce it anon. 

Ari. and Fie bounce &c. 

Quak. What care I for treasure, if Nanny but smile ? 

Ari. if Nanny &c. 

Quak. Within this shining place, 

There's not a better Face ; 
Faith now she's down, there Fie get her with Child. 
Ari. Kind Nanny smiles, and she 

Does sigh and snore for thee ; 

strange Simplicity, 

Follow me, follow me, and thou shall see. 

Quak. Does Nanny sigh and snore for me, O Lo! 

umph, I ham moUified : Nanny snore for me think 

of thy Soul Quakero, I say think of thy Soul ; if the flesh 
prevail, thy Soul is but a dead man. 

Ari. Follow me, follow me, and thou shalt see. 

Quak. Heark I am called again this voyce may be 

a good Vision go Quakero, I say go but it may 

be a snare, a trick to draw me into derision, go not 

Quakero nay, but I will not go Nanny sigh and snore 

for me, O dear ! 

Ari. Follow &c. 

Quak. Again Well I will go and advise with 

Friends, but why shouldst thou advise, look thee, thy 
intention is good, though the Action may wander, it 

matters not, I say, it matters not. Nanny sigh and 

snore for me, I will go yea assuredly I will. 

Sc. 2] The Enchanted Castle 161 

AH. Follow &c. 

Quak. Nay but I will not, it shall not be said Quakero 

followe'd the De\dl. But look thee, go thou before, 

and I will come after, if that will do. [Exeunt. 

Act V. Scene 2. 

Enter Prospero and Miranda at one Door. Ariel and 
Quakero at another. Ariel goes off immediately. 

Pros. A DVANCE the frizled frouzes of thine Eyes, 
I\. and glout on yon fair thing. 

Mir. O dear sweet Father, is that a ho ho ho a Horse- 
man, Husband? 

Pros. It is my Girle, and a yerker too ; i'faith were 
he not tir'd with seeking of his Company, he would play 
thee such Horse-tricks, would make thee sneer again. 

Mir. 'Tis a most crumptious thing; i'vads if you'l 
let me have it, lie make no more dirt Pies, nor eat the 
Chalk you score with, nor spoil your Garden to play 

with the Carrets before they are ripe pray sweet 

honey Father. 

Pros. Well He leave ye together. But I charge you 
let him not touch your honour. 

Mir. My honour O lo ! pray what is that father ? 

Pros. 'Tis a kind of fluttering Blood, which haunts the 
head and hinder parts of men, some caU it life-Blood, 
because death often ensues when those tender parts are 
touch'd: in Women its seat is on the nose, and on 

Mir. Where else pray tell me, that I may defend it. 

Pros. That's the ready way to make it be betrai'd. 
-No Child of my bowels, thou shalt never know thy 

honour from me. 

Mir. Now do I long to have this secret of my honour 
open'd : prythee now. Father tell me where 'tis. 


1 62 The Mock-Tempest^ or [Act v 

Pyos. Why, 1 know not what to say On thy 


Mir. My Elbow, O lemine ! fear it not then, for my 
honour is so hard with being thump'd and leand upon, 
that a hundred touches can't hurt it. 

Pros. All falls out yet even as my Soul would wish, 
but I must watch, I don't like this leering Quakero, such 
zealous youthes are very Tyrants in secret. 

[Exit Prospero. 

Quak. Assuredly Satan thou hast told truth, for she 
is here; But yet thou art a Iyer Satan, for she is not 
here, that is to say, she sleepeth not, I will declare 
before her umph a ha h. 

Most finest, most delicatest, and most lusciousest 
Creature, whose face is more delicious then a Pot of Ale 
with Sugar and Nutmeg, after a long Exercise. 

Mir. Ha. 

Quak. The favour of whose breath is more comfortable 
then the hot steam of a Sundays Dinner. 

Mir. O Lo! 

Quak. Whose Paps are whiter then two Norfolke- 
dumpHns stufft with Plums and softer then Quaking- 

Mir. Why did you ever feel my Bubbies ? 

Quak. Nay assuredly, but I hope I shall 

Quak. Whose soft Palmes are pleasanter then a warm 
cloath to my Sweaty-back, or a hot Trencher to an 
akeing BeUy. 

Mir. O rare! 

Quak. Whose Legs are smoother then my Chin, on. a 
Saturday-night, and sleeker then thy Elbowes. 

Mir. O my honour, my honour, my Father sayes you 
must not touch my honour pray. 

Quak. Nay Sister far, far be it from me to soyl thy 
honour. Thy nature is more inviteing then a Christn'ing- 
Bowl of warm red Wine deckt round with Lemon-peel. 

Sc. 2] The Enchanted Castle 163 

Mir. Oh my dear ho, ho, ho, I can no longer forbear. 

\_She imbraces him. 

Quak. Ah Sister mine; Now I ham even hke unto 
that Httle Creature called a Cat, when his back is 
stroaked, he longeth to play with his tail. 

Mir. And what are I like then, tell me what I are 

Quak. Why thou are like a pretty httle Mouse verily. 

But then I ham two-fold luck thee : first I ham like 

a Cat, and secondly I am not like a Cat. First, I ham 

like a Cat, for when the Cat smells the pretty Mouse, he 
is restless and eager; Nay, he cannot stand still, but 
frisketh, and jumpeth, and dance-eth 'till he hath 

devoured hit ; In like sort, firstly, I ham like a Cat, 

look thee, for I am inflamed, and eager truely : nay, I 
am even ravenous after the pretty tender Mouse, as a 
Bear bereaved of her Whelps. But secondly, I ham not 
Uke a Cat, look thee ; for that seeketh the destruction, 
and the nothingness of the Mouse, but I thirsteth for the 
Propagation, look thee, and the somethingness, yea the 
fuUness of hit ^ha, ha, hae. 

Mir. And am I hke a Mouse i'vads ? 

Quak. Unfeignedly. 

Mir. Then I'le run into my hole. 

Quak. And I will pursue even unto thy very hole, 
till I have overtaken thee. [Exeunt. 

Enter Prospero hastily. 

Pros. Ah how nimble this zealous youth is Mir- 
anda I Miranda ! 

Enter Miranda, and Quakero. 
And you Quakero, come back, or Tie throw you over the 
Balcony, and try if you have as many hves as a Cat. 

Mir. Zooks, Father you have spoiled the rarest play 
of Cat and Mouse. 

Pros. Thou shaft be mouz'd my Girle, but every thing 
in season, Rome was not built in a day, go in and trust me. 

164 The Mock-Tempest^ or [Act v 

Mir. Shan't my Puss go with me ; come Puss, come 
littl'e Puss. {Exit Miranda. 

Pros. Hypolito my Child ! 

Enter Hypolito. 
Come hither discourse this trusty Nicodemus, 'till my 
return, you must be acquainted with him. 

[Exit Prospero. 

Hyp. Pray Mr. Nichodemus, what did your Periwig 
cost you ? 

Quak. Ha, ha, ha, he! 

Hyp. Ha, ha, he, how much is, ha, ha, he! 

Quak. I wiU be avenged of thee Satan ! 

Hyp. Sa~tan, my name is Hypolito ! 

Quak. I will no more stir up friends to despise 
Government, and teach them 'tis a great point of Faith, 
rather to beleive an ignorant upright Taylor, or a 
precious enlightened Weaver, then a Book-learned 
Tythmonger verily. 

Hyp. Hey brave Boyes you Rogues Mr. Nichodemus, 
will you play at Nickers you Sir, or Spand-f arthing ? 

Quak. Out thou lew'd scoffer, I ham a Professor. 

Hyp. A Professor, what's that ? 

Quak. That is a friend. 

Hyp. And what is a friend ? 

Quak. Why a friend is one of Us. 

Hyp. And what is one of Us. 

Quak. Why one of Us is a 1 say is a — um a — ha, 

ha, ha, he. 

Hyp. Pray Mr. Nichodemus, let me be one of Us, ha, 
ha, ha, he. 

Quak. I would thou wert, I say, I would thou 

wert, but thou knowest not the Splendour of the 
obscurity of the revealed secret, umph~ha, thou under- 
standest not ? 

Hyp. Yes I understand you well enough, but only I 
don't know your meaning. 

Sc. 2] T'he Enchanted Castle ib^ 

Quak. What Religion art thou of ? 

Hyp. Religion, why I am a Duke. 

Quak. What Faith dost thou profess ? 

Hyp. Why Faith and Troth, and adznigs, and by this 

Quak. Ah thou art a beast, and shouldst be chastised ; 

therefore provoke me not: 1 say provoke me 


Hyp. Not provoke thee ^but I will provoke thee : 

take that. {Kicks him. 

Quak. I ham not provoked. 

Hyp. Then have at the again. 

Quak. I ham not provoked yet. 

Hyp. There, then there. {Kicks him. 

Quak. Nay, but I ham not yet provoked. 

Hyp. No then lie wear out my Shooes, but Tie 
provoke thee ; there, there, there, and there. 

{Kicks him. 

Quak. Hold, hold, I say hold, for I ham provoked, 
and I will chastise thee. 

{The Quaker throwes off his Coat, and beats 
Hypohto 'till he lyes as dead. 

Hyp. O murther, murther, lie fight no more: you 
pull by the hair Mr. Nichodemus. 

Enter Prospero. 

Pros. What dismal noyse is this ^ha! HypolUo 

dead, then all my toyl's in vain: O thou unlucky 

chit, I wish I'de been betwattl'd, when I had to do with 

Quak. Unfeignedly I was provoked, therefore I say 
have Patience, that is to sayo be pacified. 

Pros. Out thou stinking, sneaking Bastard, he's quite 
dead : If ever thou serv'st me so again. He whip thee 
'till the Blood drops at thy heels. 

Quak. Dead! then by Yea, and Nay, I never saw him 

in my life. 

1 66 The Mock-Tempest^ or [Act v 

Pros. O cruel luck! AHel, what ho my Spirit Ariel. 
Enter Ariel. 

Ari. What says my mighty, and most Potent Lord? 

Pros. Most potent Lord! most Potent Fiddle-stick! 
See thou lazy droan of a Spirit, what mischief here is 

Ari. O lo ! O lo ! O Laud ! Ah poor Folly, how sadly 
his finger's scratch'd ; but lie fly to Mother Damnables, 
and fetch some Pilgrim salve to cure it. {Exit Ariel. 

Fros. Miranda ! Dorinda ! 

Enter Miranda, and Dorinda. 

my Girles, we are all undone, look there Dorinda, thy 
poor Polly's dead. 

Mir. O my dear Puss-cat, shall us play Cat and 
Mouse ? 
Pros. Touch him not you Harlotry baggage, why when 

1 say come away. 

Dor. Alass ! What's worse then ill luck ? 
Enter Alonzo, Gonzalo, and Antonio, as driven in by 


Alon. Never were Hogs so driv'n to Rumford, as we 
are hunch'd along. 

What my Boy Quakero, and alive, touch my Flesh. 

Quak. My Father after the Flesh, O sorrowfuU joy. 

Pros. You stare as if you had never seen me : have 
so short a time as 50 years made you forget Prospero ? 

Gon. How my good old Neighbour Duke Prospero ! 

Alon. The De\al 'tis: O strange, I thought he had 
been hang'd long ago. 

Anto. Laud, how a httle time will change folkes, I 
had quite forgot him, and yet I remember him as well 
as if 'twere but yesterday. 

Pros. Had I liv'd 'till now where you sent me, I had 

been dead 20 years ago Know 'twas I trappan'd you 

to this my enchanted Castle of Bridewello, where I yet 
govern, and am Lord Paramount. I meant to be friends 

Sc. 2] The Enchanted Castle 167 

with you all, and Marry that strippUng to my eldest 
Girle ; but see what he has done to the Infant Duke of 

Gon. Never stir, if it be not honest httle Duke Polly. 

Anto. Alass poor Duke, as towardly a Child as ever 
broke bit of bread. 

Alon. And what dost thou now intend ? we fear thee 

Pros. Quakero shall be hang'd, and you shall be all 
tortur'd; ho within there, prepare the PiUory, the 

Whipping-post, the Stocks, and Cat of Nine tailes 

entreat me not, dispatch. 

Mir. I can hold no longer, O, ho, ho-ho-ho. 

Quak. Ah, ha-ha-ha-e. {Enter Devils. 

Pros. Away with them. See it done. 

The Scene 0/ Bridewell. Aiiel flyes down. 

Ari. Stay my most Potent Master, I come from the 
sage Urganda of Wildo streeto, that renowned Enchan- 
tress, who has disarm' d aU the Knights of the White 
Spear and Nut-brown Shield: And that most mighty 
Necromancer Punchanello Alquiffe, who with one breath 
puffs Candle out, and in Rains Fire, makes Sea of 
painted Clout to move, and Devils dance : by their ayd 
I have compos'd a Suppositorial Ligneous puffe and 
blow, which would recal hfe though Nine days lost, see 
here 'tis come. 

Enter Devils with a great pair of Bellows. 

Pros. 'Tis joyful newes. 

Ari. AU must assist in the Ceremony, 

Pros. Come then let's about it. 

Ari. Help, help Lordlings, and Ladies help 
To raise up great Heroick whelp. 

Ariel Sings. 
Prospero, Prospero 
Looks feirce as a Hero ; 
7/ Polly should dye, poor I shall he killed I fear 0. 

1 68 The Mock-Tempest^ or [Act v 

Chorus. Then blow the Bellows, blow the Bellows, blow 
the Bellows blow; blow and puff, blow and puff, puff, puff, 
and blow, blow, blow. 

Let not his Soul, 
Get out of the hole 
And all shall be well I tvo, tro, tro, &c. 

Pros. We conjure thee to wake 

By a Two-peny Cake, 
Alon. By a Ginger -bread-role, 
Mir. By a thing with a hole, 
Dor. Which thou lov'st with thy Soul ; 
Gon. By a Rattle and Drum, 
Anto. By a great Sugar-plum, 
Quak. As big as thy Thumb. 
Chorus. Polly, PoUy, Polly, 

O PoUy, PoUy, Polly! 

To dye is but folly. 

For shame lye not there. 

While thy Doxie is here. 

AU. How is't. 
Ari. By th' Mass 

As 'twas. 
All. Alass. 
Ari. Prospero, Prospero, 

Looks, &c. ^As before. 

Chorus. Then blow the Bellows, &c. As before. 

Pros. We conjure thee agen 

By a hobby Horse fine, 
Mir. By thy Bullets and Cat-stick, 
Dor. By thy Rearer and Trap-stick, 
Alon. By thy stealers and Pickers, 
Gon. By thy Marbles and Nickers, 
Anto. By thy Top and thy Gigg, 
Quak. By thy Beard, and thy Wigg. 

Sc. 2] The Rnchanted Castle 169 

Chorus, Polly, Polly, &c. All as before. 

[Then Hypolito rises. 

Art. Victoria, Victoria! He lives, he lives, he lives. 
[They Dance confus'dly round him. 

Chorus. Then let's hugg him, and lugg him, and tugg 
him, and smugg him : with a hey brave Polly, and ho 
brave PoUy and take him, and shake him, and wake him, 
and never forsake him, with a hey brave Polly, and ho 
brave Polly. 

Pros. So, so, so, Wellcome to life again, now the man 
shall have his Mare again, and all friends. 

Alon. Thanks Prospero, and gentle Ariel. 

Gon. Thanks Ariel, and gentle Prospero. 
Enter Stephania, Beantosser, Moustrappa, Drinkallup, 

and Hectorio. 

Steph. Ha, is it so, more Of&cers then head Constables, 
you may dismiss the Pris'ners and adjourne the Court. 

Bean. What to the old place in Moor-fields. 

Mous. Ay, ay, and make Proclamation that all good 
Rehgious People may take notice of it. 

Steph. No, no, weel meet here again to morrow. And 
so she pray'd me to tell ye. 

Drink. If any forget the place, that man in black 
may instruct them, for he's Chaplain to the Society. 

Pros. Set open the Gate, you may march off, y'ave 
had punishment enough for once. 

[Exeunt Baud, and Whores. 

Now to wipe out the remembrance of all past sorrow, 
I'le show you the pleasures of my enchanted Castle. 
Ariel, see it done, and then be free. 

Ari. I'le about it strait. [Exit Ariel. 


The Scene drawn discovers Bridewell with Prisners in 

several postures of labour and punishment, then a Baud 

and Pimp drawn over the Stage in a Cart follow' d by a 

Rabble ; then arise Caliban, and Sycorax. 

170 The Mock-Temp est\ or [Act v 

Sycorax. My Lord great Cac-Cac-Cac-Cac-Calyban. 
For my sweet sake, 
Some pity take 
On beauteous Nimph in Caravan : 
And check with seemly snout, 
The Rabble rout. 
Calyban. Sweet Sycorax, my Mopsa dear, 
My Dove, my Duck, 
My Honey suck- 
-le which hast neither prick nor peer. 
Tie do't, take tail of Shirt, 
Cleanse Eye from Dirt. 
Syc. Give all the rest of this fair Crew, 
A play day too ; 
Let Pillory 
And Stocks agree, 
To set all free: 
Let the Beetle and Whip, be both laid to sleep, 
And Pris'ners Condemn' d, live for want of a slip. 
Cal. Dear Dowdy be jocund, and sleek 

The dainty fine furrowes of thine Olive Cheek : 
I cannot deny 
My pretty Pigs nye. 
With a Nose like a Rose, 
And a lip as green as a Leek. 
Be calme ye great Parents of the Punch, and the Pad, 
While each Bully and Lass sing and revel like mad. 

Chorus. Be calme, Sec. 

While each, &c. 

Pimp. Compel this roaring rout to fly. 
Baud. And wee' I obey you by and by. 

Chorus. Compel, &c. 

And wee'l, &c. 

Rabble. Give's something to drink, and wee'l go hence, 
For we meant your honours no offence. 

Sc. 2] 

The Enchanted Castle 

Caly. Here, here ye dogs, here's Eighteen-pence. 
Syc. But ere you go, lets have a Dance. 

Chorus. Here here, &c. 

But ere you, &c. 

[They Dance, and Sing this Chorus. 
Be calme ye great Parents of the Punch, and the Pad :■ 
While each Bully and Lass, sing and revel like mad. 

[Exeunt Rabble. The Prisners make a noyse. 

Caly. Head-keeper , let Correction cease, 

Let ev'ry back and hum have peace. 
Syc. Do not the noble Crew beguile, 

They came to sing and dance a while : 

And you of pleasure make a toyle. 
Caly. Be still, he still, ye whips, and ye hacks, 

Obey, obey, my lovely Sycorax. 
Chorus. Be still, &c. 

Obey, &c. 

The Head-keeper flyes down and sings. 
Head-k. Her I'le obey whose breath's so strong, one blast 
Sent from her Lungs would lay my Castle wast ; 
Come down my furies, lash no more, 
But gently poure in 
Salt and Urine, 
To cleanse their crimson Lace from gore : 
Whatever they are, or what' ere their transgressions, 

Free all in the Castle, free all ; 
Make it as quiet, as at quarter Sessions, 
When they make visits to Westminster-Hall. 
Here Four Keepers fly down. 
To the Houses you know. 
Round, round, must you go. 
And search ev'ry place where their Revels they keep : 
But no more 'till I call, shall ye handle the whip. 

Chorus. To the Houses, Sec. 

Round, &c. 

172 The Mock-Tempest^ or [Act v 

And search 

But no more \Exeunt Keepers. 

Caly. l<Sow the Tyrants are gone that made ye affraid : 
Let each Daughter and Son, 
Make hast to come on ; 
And be merry, he merry, he merry, 
Be merry, as a Maid. 

Chorus. Now the Tyrants, &c. 

While the Chorus is Singing the Prisners are freed, and 

make ready for a Dance. The Scene shuts. A dance with 

Bottles in their hands. 

Pimp. Bullies my Lads, your Bottles sound. 

Baud. And let sweet Eccho from each Lass rebound. 

Chorus. Bullies, &c.- 

And let, &c.- 

A Dance. 
Chorus: Drink up all. 
Drink up all. 
Drink up all. 

Up all. 

Drink up all. 

The Scene opens, discovers the Sea ; The Night going 

down Aurora, and the Sun rising the Musick sitting 

in an Arch of Chariots. 
Caly. See, see black Queen of Night, is sneaking down, 
And under sable Arm, she hides pale Moon. 
And Dame Aurora, yonder with eyes grey. 
Shedding Od'rifferous dew, and breaking day. 
Behold the Skies Head- Waggoner, the Sun, 
With Firy steed up yonder Hill does run. 
Miss Thetis would from Watry Bed pursue. 
Begone fond Minx, must none have Sun but 

Caly. Now your drink, and your Drabs you shall safely 

)c. 2] The Enchanted Castle iji 

Syc. No Constables or Watch, shall your quiet destroy. 

Chorus. Now, &c. 

No Constable, &c. 

Pimp. Wee' I closely convey you by a private back door : 

Your Ale and Stepony wee' I Jill on the Score. 
Baud. Wee'l treat ye great lubbers, as ye sail in the 
With Trumpets and Cymbals, and loud City 
Syc. In each room a soft Bed, or a Couch we will lay. 
To please you all Night, and delight you all day. 

Chorus. In each room, &c. 

To please you, &c. 

A Dance. 

Ariel appears in the Air, and Sings. 
Where good Ale is, there suck I, 
In a Coblers Stall I lye. 
While the Watch are passing by ; 
Then about the Streets I fly, 
After Cullies merrily. 
And I merrily, pierrity take up my clo'se. 
Under the Watch, and the Constables nose. 

Pros. Henceforth may our Enchanted Castle be, 

From Ign'rant Sprights, and sullen Devils free : 
May beautious Nymphs hke httle Lambkins 

While Swains with am'rous Pipes drive care 

Our harmless mirth shall stiU attend you here : 
Tis mirth that makes you Youthful brisk and 

That our Mock-Tempest, then may flourish long, 
Clapp all that would seem beautifuU and young. 


Epilogue, by Miranda. 

/^^ ENTLEMEN look'ee now, pray, my Father sayes 

\J^ that I and my Sister must have ye all i'fads : 

Whereof I can't tell what to do, I'le swear' o ; 

If I take you, I lose my dear Quakero : 

His things are precious, and his love is true ; 

But there's no trust in ought you say or do : 

Yet for ought that I know. 

My self could serve you all as well as any ; 

But my Father says, pray. 

One Dish of meat can never serve so many ; 

For though you all agree in one design, 

To feed like Schollers on the tender Loyn ; 

In this you differ with them, pray ; 

One little Chop, and one plain Dish will do. 

You must have Sause, warm Plates, fresh hau-gou's too ; 

The large Pottage of glitt'ring show and dress. 

Must cheat you to the little bit of flesh. 

My Father says, 

Since with such charge we purchase your Contents, 

He thinks 'tis fit we should have Settlements : 

For when you have enjoy' d, what that is, I can't tell i'vads ; 

but I beleive you can, 

Y'are dronish, cold and dull as any thing ; 

Just like a Bee, when he has lost his sting : 

And though with all our tempting sweets we strive, 

We ne'r shall catch you more within our Hive. 

Then must our sinking joyes ne'r rise again ? 

Must we be kind, and show all in vain ? 

You lov'd the jilting Mother much and long ; 

She's old, the Daughter's active brisk and young : 

If you neglect us still, pray. 

May all your stony Pride unpiti'd fall ; 

And may our harmless Devils take you all. 


Missing Page 

Missing Page 




King LEAR: 



Acted at the 

Duke's Theatre. 

Reviv'd with Alterations. 

By N. Tate. 

'The Persons. 

King Lear, 

Mr. Betterton. 


Mr. Gillo. 


Mr. Wiltshire.., 


Mr. Smith. 


Mr. Jo. Willi' 


Mr. Norris. 


Mr. Bowma i. 


Gentleman-Usher, >. 

Mr. Jevon. 

\An Old Man, Tenant to Gloster,] 



Mrs. Shadwell. 


Lady Slingsby. 


Mrs. Barry. 



Guards, Officers, Messengers, [Two Ruffians,] 



O INCE by Mistakes your best Delights are made, 
v3 [For e'en your Wives can please in Masquerade,) 
'Twere worth our While to'ave drawn you in this Day 
By a new Name to our old honest Play ; 
But he that did this Evening's Treat prepare ] 
Bluntly resolv'd before-hand to declare V 

Your Entertainment should be most old Fare.) 
Yet hopes, since in rich Shakespear's Soil it grew,} 
'Twill relish yet, with those whose Tasts are true. 
And his Ambition is to please a Few. 
If then this Heap of Flow'rs shall chance to wear 
Fresh Beauty in the Order they now hear, 
Even this Shakespear's Praise ; each Rustick knows 
'Mongst plenteous Flow'rs a Garland to compose. 
Which strung by this course Hand may fairer show. 
But 'twas a Power Divine first made 'em grow. 
Why shou'd these Scenes lie hid, in which we find 
What may at once divert and teach the Mind ; 
Morals were always proper for the Stage, 
But are ev'n necessary in this Age. 
Poets must take the Churches teaching Trade, 
Since Priests their Province of Intrigue invade ; 
But we the Worst in this Exchange have got, 
In vain our Poets preach, whilst Church-men plot. 




King LEAR: 

Act I. 

Enter Bastard solus. 
Bast. npHOU Nature art my Goddess, to thy Law 

1 My Services are bound ; why am I then 
Depriv'd of a Son's Right, because I came not 
In the duU Road that Custom has prescrib'd ? 
Why Bastard, wherefore Base, when I can boast 
A Mind as gen'rous, and a Shape as true 
As honest Madam's Issue ? Why are we 
Held Base, who in the lusty Stealth of Nature 
Take fiercer Qualities than what compound 
The scanted Births of the stale Marriage-bed ; 
WeU then, legitimate Edgar, to thy Right 
Of Law I will oppose a Bastard's Cunning. 
Our Father's Love is to the Bastard Edmund 
As to legitimate Edgar ; with Success 
I've practis'd yet on both their easy Natures : 
Here comes the old Man chaf't with th' Information 
Which last I forg'd against my Brother Edgar, 
A Tale so plausible, so boldly utter'd. 
And heightned by such lucky Accidents, 
That now the slightest Circumstance confirms him, 
And Base-born Edmund spight of Law inherits. 


1 82 The History of [Act i 

Enter Kent and, Gloster. 

Glost. Nay, good my Lord, your Charity 
O'er shoots it self to plead in his Behalf ; 
You are your self a Father, and may feel ' 
The Sting of Disobedience from a Son 
First-born and best-Belov'd : Oh Villain Edgar I 

Kent. Be not too rash, aU may be Forgery, 
And Time yet clear the Duty of your Son. 

Glost. Plead with the Seas, and reason down the 
Yet shall thou ne'er convince me, I have seen 
His foul Designs through all a Father's Fondness : 
But be this Light and thou my Witnesses, 
That I discard him here from my Possessions, 
Divorce him from my Heart, my Blood, and Name. 

Bast. It works as I cou'd wish ; I'll shew my self. 

Glost. Ha! Edmund! welcome Boy; O Kent! see here 
Inverted Nature, Gloster' s Shame and Glory, 
This By-born," the wild saUy of my Youth, 
Pursues me with aU filial Offices, 
Whilst Edgar, beg'd of Heaven, and bom in Honour, 
Draws Plagues on my white Head, that urge me still 
To curse in Age the Pleasure of my Youth. 
Nay, weep not, Edmund, for thy Brother's Crimes ; 
O gen'rous Boy ! thou shar'st but half his Blood, 
Yet lov'st beyond the Kindness of a Brother : 
But I'U reward thy Vertue. FoUow me. 
My Lord, you wait the King, who comes resolv'd 
To quit the Toils of Empire, and divide 
His Realms amongst his Daughters; Heaven succeed 

But much I fear the Change. 

Kent. I grieve to see him 
With such wild Starts of Passion hourly seiz'd, 
x\s render Majesty between itself. 

Glost. Alas! 'tis the Infirmity of his Age, 

Act i] King Lear 183 

Yet has his Temper even been unfixt, 
Chorrick and sudden ; hark. They approach 

\E%eunt Gloster and Bastard. 
Flourish. Enter Lear, Cornwall, Albany, Burgundy, 

Edgar, Goneril, Regan, Cordelia, Edgar speaking to 

Cordeha at Entrance. 

Edgar. Cordelia, Royal Fair, turn yet once more, 
And e'er successful Burgundy receive 
The Treasure of thy Beauties from the King, 
E'er happy Burgundy for ever fold Thee, 
Cast back one pitying Look on wretched Edgar. 

Cord. Alas ! What wou'd the wretched Edgar with 
The more unfortunate Cordelia ? 
Who in Obedience to a Father's Will 
FUes from her Edgar's Arms to Burgundy's ? 

Lear. Attend my Lords of Albany and Cornwall, i 
With Princely Burgundy. — ' 

Alb. We do, my Liege. 

Lear. Give me this Map Know, Lords, we have 

In Three, our Kingdom, having now resolv'd 
To disengage from Our long Toil of State, 
Conferring All upon your younger Years ; 
You Burgundy, Cornwall and Albany, 
Long in our Court have made your amorous sojourn. 
And now are to be answer'd. — TeU me, my Daughters, 
Which of you loves us most, that we may place 
Our largest Bounty with our largest Merit. 
Goneril, Our Eldest-born, speak first. 

Gon. Sir, I do love you more than Words can utter^ 
Beyond what can be valu'd Rich, or Rare ; 
Nor Liberty, nor Sight, Health, Fame, or Beauty, 
Are half so dear, my Life for you were vile. 
As much as Child can love the best of Fathers. 

Lear. Of all these Bounds, e'en from this Line to this. 
With shady Forests, and wide-skirted Meads, 

184 The History of [Act i 

We make thee Lady; to thine and Albany's Issue 

Be this perpetual. ^What says our Second Daughter ? 

Reg. My Sister, Sir, in Part, exprest my Love. 
For such as Hers, is mine, though more extended ; 
Sense has no other Joy that I can rehsh, 
I have my All in my dear Liege's Love. 

Lear. Therefore to thee and thine Hereditary 
Remain this ample Third of our fair Kingdom. 

Cord. Now comes my Trial, how am I distrest, 

That must with cold Speech tempt the Chol'rick King 

L Rather to leave me Dowerless, then condemn me 
To loath'd Embraces. 

Lear. Speak now Our last, not least in Our dear Love, 

So ends my Task of State, Cordelia, speak ? 

What canst thou say to win a richer Third 
Than what thy Sisters gain'd ? 

Cord. Now must my Love, in Words, fall short of 
As much as it exceeds in Truth, ^Nothing, my Lord. 

Lear. Nothing can come of Nothing, speak agen. 

Cord. Unhappy am I that I can't Dissemble, 
Sir, as I ought I love your Majesty, 
No more, nor less. 

Lear. Take heed, Cordelia. 
Thy Fortunes are at stake, think better on' t. 
And mend thy Speech a little. 

Cord. O my Liege ! 
You gave me Being, Bred me, dearly love me. 
And I return my Duty as I ought ; 
Obey you. Love you, and most Honour you ; 
Why have my Sisters Husbands, if they love you All ? 
Haply when I shall wed, the Lord whose Hand 
Shall take my PUght, will carry half my Love ; 
For I shall never marry like my Sisters, 
To love my Father All. 

Act i] King Lear 185 

Lear. And goes thy Heart with this ? 
'Tis said that I am Choi' rick, Judge me, Gods, 
Is there not cause ? Now Minion, I perceive 
The Truth of what has been suggested to us ; 
Thy Fondness for the Rebel Son of Gloster, 
False to his Father, as Thou art to my Hopes : 
And, oh ! take heed, rash Girl, lest we comply 
With thy fond Wishes, which thou wilt too late 
Repent ; for know our Nature cannot brook 
A ChUd so young, and so Ungentle. 

Cord. So Young, my Lord, and True. 

Lear. Thy Truth then be thy Dow'r ; 
For by the sacred Sun, and solemn Night, 
I here disclaim all my paternal Care, 
And from this Minute hold thee as a Stranger, 
Both to my Blood and Favour. 

Kent. This is Frenzy. 
Consider, good my Liege, 

Lear. Peace, Kent ; 
Come not between a Dragon and his Rage ; 
I lov'd her most, and in her tender Trust 
Design'd to have bestow'd my Age at Ease : 
So be my Grave my Peace, as here I give 
My Heart from her, and with it all my Wealth : 
My Lords of Cornwall, and of Albany, 
I do invest you jointly in full Right 
In this fair Third, Cordelia's forfeit Dow'r. 
Mark me, my Lords, observe our last Resolve, 
Our Self, attended with an hundred Knights, 
Will make Abode with you in monthly Course ; 
The Name alone of King remain with me. 
Yours be the Execution and Revenues ; 
This is our final Will ; and to confirm it, 
This Coronet part between you. 

Kent. Royal Lear, 
Whom I have ever honour'd as my King, 

1 86 The History of [Act i 

Lov'd as my Father, as my Master follow'd, 

And, as my Patron, thought on in my Prayers, 

Leav. Away, the Bow is bent, make from the Shaft. 

Kent. No, let it fall and drench within my Heart, 
Be Kent unmannerly when Lear is mad ; 
Thy youngest Daughter 

Lear. On thy Life no more. 

Kent. What wilt thou doe, old Man ? 

Lear. Out of my Sight. 

Kent. See better first. 

Lear. Now by the God, 

Kent. Now by the Gods, rash King, thou swear'st in 

Lear. Ha, Traytour! 

Kent. Do, kill thy Physician Lear ; 
Strike thro' my Throat, yet with my latest Breath 
I'll Thunder in thine Ear my just Complaint, 
And tell Thee to thy Face that Thou dost ill. 

Lear. Hear me, rash Man ; on thy Allegiance hear me ; 
Since thou hast striv'n to make Us break our Vow, 
And prest between our Sentence and our Pow'r, 
Which nor our Nature, nor our Place can bear, 
We banish thee for ever from our Sight 
And Kingdom ; if when three Days are expir'd. 
Thy hated Trunk be found in our Dominions, 
That Moment is thy Death ; Away. 

Kent. Why fare thee well, King; since thou art re- 
I take thee at thy Word, and will not stay. 
To see Thy Fall : The Gods protect the Maid 
That truly thinks, and has most justly said. 
Thus to new Chmates my old Truth I bear. 
Friendship lives hence, and Banishment is here. \Exit. 

Lear. Now, Burgundy, you see her Price is fain, 
Yet if the Fondness of your Passion stiU 
Affects her as she stands, Dow'rless, and lost 

Act i] King Lear 187 

In our Esteem, she's your's ; take her, or leave her. 

Burg. Pardon me. Royal Lear, I but demand 
The Dow'r yourself propos'd, and here I take 
Cordelia by the Hand, Dutchess of Burgundy. 

Lear. Then leave her. Sir, for by a Father's Rage 
I teU you all her Wealth. Away. 

Burg. Then, Sir, be pleas'd to charge the Breach 
Of our AUiance on your own WiU, 
Not my Inconstancy. [Exeunt. 

Manent Edgar and Cordelia. 

Edg. Has Heaven then weigh'd the Merit of my Love, 
Or is't the Raving of my sickly Thought ? 
Cou'd Burgundy forgo so rich a Prize, 
And leave her to despairing Edgar's Arms ? 
Have I thy Hand Cordelia ? Do I clasp it ? 
The Hand that was this Minute to have join'd 
My hated Rival's ? Do I kneel before thee. 
And offer at thy Feet my panting Heart ? 
Snule, Princess, and convince me ; for as yet 
I doubt, and dare not trust the dazling Joy. 

Cord. Some Comfort yet, that 'twas no vicious Blot 
That has depriv'd me of a Father's Grace, 
But meerly want of that which makes me Rich 
In wanting it ; a smooth professing Tongue : 
O Sisters! I am loth to caU your Fault 
As it deserves ; but use our Father well. 
And wrong'd Cordelia never shall repine. 

Edg. Oheav'nly Maid! that art thyself thy Dow'r, 
Richer in Vertue than the Stars in Light, 
If Edgar's humble Fortunes may be grac't 
With thy Acceptance, at thy Feet he lays 'em. 
Ha, my Cordelia ! dost thou turn away ? 
What have I done t' offend thee ? 

Cord. Talk't of Love. 

Edg. Then I've offended oft, Cordelia too 
Has oft permitted me so to offend. 

1 88 The History of [Act i 

Cord. When, Edgar, I permitted your Addresses, 
I was the darUng Daughter of a King, 
Nor can I now forget my Royal Birth, 
And hve dependant on my Lover's Fortune ; 
I cannot to so low a "Fafp <;nhTnit ; !.',j.^. 
And therefore study to forget your Passion, 
And trouble me upon this Theam no more. 

Edg. Thus Majesty takes most State in Distress! 
How are we tost on Fortune's fickle Flood ! 
The Wave that with surprizing Kindness brought 
The dear Wreck to my Arms, has snatcht it back. 
And left me mourning on the barren Shoar. 

Cord. This baseness of th' ignoble Burgundy, [Aside. 
Draws just Suspicion on the Race of Men ; 
His Love was Int'rest, so may Edgar's be. 
And He, but with more Complement, dissemble ; 
If so, I shall oblige him by denying : 
But if his Love be fixt, such constant Flame 
As warms our Breasts, if such I find his Passion, 
My Heart as grateful to his Truth shall be, 
And Cold Cordelia prove as kind as He. [Exit. 

Enter Bastard hastily. 

Bast. Brother, I've found you in a lucky Minute, 
Fly and be safe, some Villain has incens'd 
Our Father against your Life. 

Edg. Distrest Cordelia! but oh ! more Cruel. 

Bast. Hear me, Sir, your Life, your Life's in danger. 

Edg. A Resolve so sudden. 
And of such black Importance! 

Bast. 'Twas not sudden, 
Some Villain has of long Time laid the Train. 

Edg. And yet perhaps 'twas but pretended Coldness, 
To try how far my Passion would pursue. 

Bast. He hears me not ; wake, wake. Sir. 

Edg. Say ye. Brother ? 

No Tears, good Edmund, if thus bring'st me Tidings 

Act i] King Lear 189 

To strike me dead, for Charity delay not, 
That Present will befit so kind a Hand. 

Bast. Your Danger, Sir, comes on so fast. 
That I want Time t' inform you ; but retire 
Whilst I take Care to turn the pressing Stream. 
O Gods! For Heav'n's Sake, Sir. 

Edg. Pardon me. Sir, a serious Thought 
Had seiz'd me, but I think you talkt of Danger, 
And wisht me to retire ; Must all our Vows 
End thus ? — Friend, I obey you. — O Cordelia. 

Bast. Ha ! ha ! fond Man, such credulous Honesty 
Lessens the Glory of my Artifice ; 
His Nature is so far from doing Wrongs, 
That he suspects none : If this Letter speed. 
And pass for Edgar's, as himself wou'd own 
The Coimterfeit, but for the foul Contents, 

Then my Designs are perfect. Here comes Gloster. 

Enter Gloster. 
Glost. Stay, Edmund, turn; What Paper were you 
reading ? 

Bast. A Trifle, Sir. 

Glost. What needed then that terrible Dispatch of it 
Into your Pocket ? Come, produce it. Sir. 

Bast. A Letter from my Brother, Sir, I had 
Just broke the Seal, but knew not the Contents ; 
Yet, fearing they might prove too blame, 
Endeavour'd to conceal it from your Sight. 

Glost. 'Tis Edgar's Character. [Reads. 

This Policy of Fathers is intollerable, that keeps our 
Fortunes from us 'till Age will not suffer us to 
enjoy 'em; I am weary of the Tyranny : Come 
to me, that of this I may speak more. If our 
Father would sleep 'till I wak't him, you should 
enjoy half his Possessions, and live belov'd of 
your Brother Edgar. 

190 The History of [Act i 

Sleep 'till I wak't him! you shou'd enjoy 

Half his Possessions ! Edgar to write this 

'Gainst his indulgent Father ! Death and HeU ! 
Fly, Edmund, seek him out, wind me into him, 
That I may bite the Traytor's Heart, and fold 
His bleeding Entrails on my vengeful Arm. 

Bast. Perhaps 'twas writ, my Lord, to prove my 

Glost. These late Eclipses of the Sun and Moon 
Can bode no less ; Love cools, and Friendship fails. 
In Cities Mutiny, in Countrys Discord, 
The Bond of Nature crackt 'twixt Son and Father : 
Find out the Villain ; do it carefuUy, 
And it shall lose thee Nothing. \Exit. 

Bast. So now my Project's firm ; but to make sure 
I'll throw in one Proof more and that a bold one; 
I'U place old Gloster where he shall o're-hear us 
Confer of this Design ; whilst, to his thinking, 
Deluded Edgar shall accuse himself. 
Be Honesty my Int'rest, and I can 
Be Honest too : And what Saint so Divine, 
That wiU successful ViUany decline ? [Exit. 

Enter Kent disguis'd. 

Kent. Now banisht Kent, if thou canst pay thy Duty 
In this Disguise, where thou dost stand condemn'd. 
Thy Master Lear shaU find thee full of Labours. 
Enter Lear attended. 

Lear. In there, and teU our Daughter we are here. 
Now,, What art thou? 

Kent. A Man, Sir. 

Lear. What dost thou profess, or wou'dst with us ? 

Kent. I do profess to be no less than I seem, to serve 
him truly that puts me in Trust, to love him that's 
honest, to converse with him that's wise and speaks 
little, to fight when I can't choose ; and to eat no Fish. 

Lear. I say, what art Thou ? 

Act i] King Lear 191 

Kent. A very honest-hearted Fellow, and as poor as 
the King. 

Lear. Then art thou poor indeed. What canst 

thou do ? 

Kent. I can keep honest Counsel, marr a curious Tale 
in the Telling, deliver a plain Message bluntly; that 
which ordinary Men are fit for, I am quahfied in ; and 
the best of me is Diligence. 

Lear. Follow me ; thou shalt serve me. 

Enter one of Goneril's Gentlemen. 
Now, Sir ? 

Gent. Sir [Exit ; Kent runs after him. 

Lear. What says the Fellow? Call me the Clatpole 

Att. My Lord, I know not; but methinks your 
Highness is entertained with slender Ceremony. 

Servant. He says, my Lord, your Daughter is not well. 

Lear. Why came not the Slave back when I caU'd 

Serv. My Lord, he answered me i'th' surliest Manner, 
That he wou'd not. 

Re-enter Gentleman brought in by Kent. 

Lear. I hope our Daughter did not so instruct him. 
Now, who am I, Sir ? 

Gent. My Lady's Father. 

Lear. My Lord's Knave. [Strikes him. 

Goneril at the Entrance. 

Gent. I'll not be struck, my Lord. 

Kent. Nor tript neither, thou vile Civit-box. 

[Strikes up his Heels. 

Gon. By Day and Night ; this is insufferable, 
I will not bear it. 

Lear. Now, Daughter, why that Frontlet on ? 
Speak, do's that Frown become our Presence ? 

Gon. Sir, this licentious Insolence of your Servants 
Is most unseemly, hourly they break out 

192 The History of [Act i 

In Quarrels bred by their unbounded Riots, 
I had fair hope by making this known to you, 
To have had a quick Redress, but find too late 
That you protect and countenance their Outrage ; 
And therefore. Sir, I take this Freedom, which 
Necessity makes discreet. 

Lear. Are you our Daughter ? 

Gon. Come, Sir, let me entreat you to make use 
Of your Discretion, and put off betimes 
This Disposition that of late transforms you 
From what you rightly are. 

Lear. Does any here know me ? Why, this is not Lear ; 
Do's Lear walk thus ? Speak thus ? Where are his Eyes ? 
Who is it that can teU me who I am ? 

Gon. Come, Sir, this Admiration's much o'th' Savour 
Of other your new Humours ; I beseech you. 
To understand my Purposes aright ; 
As you are old, you shou'd be staid and wise : 
Here do you keep an hundred Knights and Squires, 
Men so debaucht and bold, that this our Palace 
Shews like a riotous Inn, a Tavern, Brothel ; 
Be then advised by her that else will take 
That which she begs, to lessen your Attendance, 
Take half away, and see that the Remainder 
Be such as may befit your Age, and know 
Themselves and You. 

Lear. Darkness and Devils ! 
Saddle my Horses, call my Train together ; 
Degenerate Viper, I'U not stay with Thee ! 

I yet have left a Daughter. Serpent, Monster ! 

Lessen my Train, and caU 'em riotous ? 

AU Men approv'd, of choice and rarest Parts 

That each Particular of Duty know. 

How small, Cordelia, was thy Fault ? O Lear, 

Beat at this Gate that let thy FoUy in. 

And thy dear Judgment out ; Go, go, my People. 


Act i] King Lear 

Going off meets Albany entring. 
Ingratefull Duke, was this your Will ? 

Alb. What, Sir? 

Lear. Death! fifty of my Followers at a Clap! 

Alb. The Matter, Madam? 

Gon. Never afflict yourself to know the Cause, 
But give his Dotage Way. 

Lear. Blasts upon thee, 
Th' untented Woundings of a Father's Curse 
Pierce ev'ry Sense about thee ; old fond Eyes, 
Lament this Cause again, I'U pluck ye out. 
And cast ye with the Waters that ye lose 

To temper Clay. No, Gorgon, thou shalt find 

That I'll resume the Shape which thou dost think 
I have cast off for ever. 

Gon. Mark ye that. 

Lear. Hear Nature! 
Dear Goddess hear ; and if thou dost intend 
To make that Creature Fruitful, change thy Purpose ; 
Pronounce upon her Womb the Barren Curse, 
That from her blasted Body never spring 
A Babe to honour her ; — But if she must bring forth. 
Defeat her Joy with some distorted Birth, 
Or monst'rous Form, the Prodigy o' th' Time ; 
And so perverse of Spirit, that it may live 
Her Torment as 'twas born, to fret her Cheeks 
With constant Tears, and wrinkle her young Brow. 
Turn all her Mother's Pains to Shame and Scorn, 
That she may curse her Crime too late, and feel 
How sharper than a Serpent's Tooth it is 
To have a thankless Child : Away, away. [Exit cum suis 

Gon. Presuming thus upon his numerous Train, 
He thinks to play the Tyrant here, and hold 
Our Lives at Will. 

Alb. Well, you may bear too far. [Exeunt, 

End of the First Act. 

194 The History of [Act ii 

Act II. 

SCENE, Gloster's House. 
Enter Bastard. 

Bast. npHE Duke comes here to Night, I'll take the 

1 Advantage 
Of his Arrival to compleat my Project : 
Brother, a Word, come forth ; 'tis I your Friend, 

Enter Edgar. 
My Father watches for you, fly this Place, 
Intelligence is giv'n where you're hid ; 
Take the Advantage of the Night ; bethink ye. 
Have you not spoke against the Duke of Cornwal 
Something might shew you a Favourer of 
Duke Albany's Party? 

Edg. Nothing ; why ask you ? 

Bast. Because he's coming here to Night in haste. 
And Regan with him Heark! the Guards; Away. 

Edg. Let 'em come on, I'll stay and clear myself. 

Bast. Your Innocence at Leisure may be heard, 
But Gloster's storming Rage as yet is deaf. 
And you may perish e'er allow'd the Hearing 

[Exit Edgar. 
Gloster comes yonder : Now to my feign'd Scuffle — 
Yield, come before my Father ! Lights here. Lights ! 
Some Blood drawn on me wou'd beget Opinion 

[Stabs his Arm. 
Of our more fierce Encounter. — I have seen 
Drunkards do more than this in Sport. 

Enter Gloster and Servants. 

Glost. Now, Edmund, where's the Traytour ? 

Bast. That Name, Sir, 
Strikes Horrour through me ; but my Brother, Sir, 
Stood here i'th' Dark. 

Act ii] King Lear 195 

Glost. Thou bleed'st ! pursue the Villain, 
And bring him Piece-meal to me. 

Bast. Sir, he's fled. 

Glost. Let him fly far, this Kingdom shall not hide 
The Noble Duke, my Patron comes to Night ; 
By his Authority I will proclaim 
Rewards for him that brings him to the Stake, 
And Death for the Concealer. 
Then of my Lands, loyal and natural Boy, 
I'll work the Means to make thee capable. [Exeunt. 

Enter Kent {disguis'd still) and Goneril's Gentleman, 


Gent. Good-morrow, Friend, belongst thou to this 
House ? 

Kent. Ask them will answer thee. 

Gent. Where may we set our Horses ? 

Kent. I'th' Mire. 

Gent. I am in haste, prethee an' thou lov'st me, tell me. 

Kent. I love thee not. 

Gent. Why then I care not for thee. 

Kent. An' I had thee in Lipsbury Pinfold, I'd make 
thee care for me. 

Gent. What do'st thou mean, I know thee not ? 

Kent. But, Minion, I know thee. 

Gent. What dost thou know me for ? 

Kent. For a base, proud, beggarly, white-liver'd. 
Glass-gazing, superserviceable, finical Rogue ; One that 
wou'd be a Pimp in Way of good Service, and art 
nothing but a Composition of Knave, Beggar, Coward, 

Gent. What a monst'rous Fellow art thou to rail at 
One that is neither known of thee, nor knows thee ? 

Kent. Impudent Slave! not know me, who but two 
Days since tript up thy Heels before the King : Draw, 
Miscreant, or I'U make the Moon shine through thee. 

196 The History of [Act 11 

Gent. What means the Fellow; Why, prethee, 

pre thee ; I teU thee I have nothing to do with thee. 

Kent. I know your Rogueship's Office; you come 
with Letters against the King, taking my young Lady 
Vanity's Part against her Royal Father : Draw, Rascal. 

Gent. Murther, Murther, help. 

Kent. Dost thou scream Peacock, strike Puppet, 
stand dappar Slave. 

Gent. Help Hea' ! Murther, help. 

\E%it. Kent after him. 
Flourish. Enter Duke of Cornwal, Regan, attended; 
Gloster, Bastard. 

Glost. All Welcome to your Graces, you do me 

Duke. Gloster, Wave heard with Sorrow that your 
Has been attempted by your impious Son ; 
But Edmund here has paid you strictest Duty. 

Glost. He did betray his Practice, and receiv'd 
The Hurt you see, striving to apprehend him. 

Duke. Is he pursu'd ? 

Glost. He is, my Lord. 

Reg. Use our Authority to apprehend 
The Traytour, and do Justice on his Head ; 
For you, Edmund, that have so signaliz'd 
Your Vertue, you from henceforth shall be ours ; 
Natures of such firm Trust we much shall need, 
A charming Youth, and worth my further Thought. 


Duke. Lay Comforts, noble Gloster, to your Breast, 
As we to ours. This Night be spent in Revels : 
We chuse you, Gloster, for our Host to Night, 
A troublesome Expression of our Love. 

On, to the Sports before us. Who are these ? 

Enter the Gentleman pursu'd by Kent. 

Glost. Now, what's the Matter ? 

Act ii] King Lear 197 

Duke. Keep Peace upon your Lives, he dies that 
Whence, and what are ye ? 

Att. Sir, they are Messengers, the one from your 
Sister, the other from the King. 

Duke. Your Difference ? Speak. 

Gent. I'm scarce in Breath, my Lord. 

Kent. No Marvel, you have so bestir'd your Valour. 
Nature disclaims the Dastard ; a Taylor made him. 

Duke. Speak yet, how grew your Quarrel ? 

Gent. Sir, this old Ruf&an here, whose Life I spar'd. 
In Pity to his Beard. 

Kent. Thou Essence Bottle ! 

In Pity to my Beard Your Leave my Lord, 

And I will tread the Muss-cat into Mortar. 

Duke. Know'st thou our Presence ? 

Kent. Yes, Sir, but Anger has a Privilege. 

Duke. Why art thou angry ? 

Kent. That such a Slave as this shou'd wear a Sword 
And have no Courage ? Office, and no Honesty ; 
Not Frost and Fire hold more Antipathy 
Then I and such a Knave. 

Glost. Why dost thou call him Knave ? 

Kent. His Countenance likes me not. 

Duke. No more perhaps does Mine, nor His, or Hers. 

Kent. Plain-Dealing is my Trade, and to be plain, Sir, 
I have seen better Faces in my Time, 
Then stands on any Shoulders now before me. 

Reg. This is some FeUow, that having once been 
For Bluntness, since affects a sawcy Rudeness ; 
But I have known one of these surly Knaves, 
That in his Plainness harbour'd more Design 
Then twenty cringing complementing Minions. 

Duke. What's the Offence you gave him ? 

Gent. Never any. Sir ; 

198 The Hist dry of [Act 11 

It pleas'd the King, his Master, lately 
To strike me on a slender Misconstruction, 
Whilst watching his Advantage, this old Lurcher, 
Tript me behind, for which the King extoll'd him ; 
And, flusht with the Honour of this bold Exploit, 
Drew on me here agen. 

Duke. Bring forth the Stocks, we'll teach you. 

Kent. Sir, I'm too old to learn ; 
Call not the Stocks for me, I serve the King ; 
On whose Employment I was sent to you ; 
You'll shew too small Respect, and too bold Malice 
Against the Person of my Royal Master, 
Stocking his Messenger. 

Duke. Bring forth the Stocks, as I have Life, 'and 
There shall he sit 'till Noon. 

Reg. 'Till Noon, my Lord! 'TiU Night, and aU Night 

Kent. Why Madam, if I were your Father's Dog 
You wou'd not use me so. 

Reg. Sir, being his Knave, I will. 

Glost. Let me beseech your Graces to forbear him ; 
His Fault is much, and the good King his Master 
WiU check him for't, but needs must take it ill 
To be thus slighted in his Messenger. 

Duke. We'll answer that ; 
Our Sister may receive it worse, to have 
Her Gentleman assaulted : To our Business lead. \Exit. 

Glost. I am sorry for thee. Friend, 'tis the Duke's 
Whose Disposition will not be controU'd, 
But I'll entreat for thee. 

Kent. Pray do not, Sir 

I have watcht and traveU'd hard. 

Some Time I shall sleep out, the rest I'll whistle : 

Fare-well t'ye. Sir. [Exit Gloster. 

Act ii] King Lear 199 

All weary, and o'er-watcht, 
I feel the drowzy Guest steal on me ; take 
Advantage heavy Eyes on this kind Slumber, 
Not to behold this vile and shamefull Lodging. [Sleeps. 

Enter Edgar. 

Edg. I heard myself proclaim'd, 
And by the friendly Hollow of a Tree, ' 
Escape the Hunt, no Port is free, no Place 
Where Guards and most unusual Vigilance 

Do not attend to take me. How easie now 

'Twere to defeat the Malice of my Trale, 
And leave the Griefs on my Sword's reeking Point : 
But Love detains me from Death's peaceful CaU, 
Still whispering me, Cordelia's in Distress ; 
Unkind as she is, I cannot see her wretched. 
But must be neer to wait upon her Fortune. 
Who knows but the white Minute yet may come. 
When Edgar may do Service to Cordelia. ^ 

That charming Hope still ties me to the Oar " 
Of Painfull Life, and makes me too, submit 
To th' humblest Shifts to keep that Life a-Foot ; 
My Face I will besmear, and knit my Locks, 
The Country gives me Proof and President 
Of Bedlam Beggars, who, with roaring Voices 
Strike in their numm'd and mortify'd bare Arms 
Pins, Iron-spikes, Thorns, Sprigs of Rosemary, 
And thus from Sheep-coats, Villages, and Mills, 
Sometimes with Prayers, sometimes with Lunatick Bans, 
Enforce their Charity, poor Tyrligod, poor Tom, 
That's something yet, Edgar I am no more. [Exit. 

Kent in the Stocks still ; Enter Lear attended. 

Lear. 'Tis strange that they should so depart from 
And not send back our Messenger. 

Kent. Hail, noble Master. 

Lear. How! Mak'st thou this Shame thy Pastime? 

200 The History of [Act ii 

What's he that has so much mistook thy Place, 
To set thee here ? 

Kent. It is both He and She, Sir, your Son and 

Lear. No. 

Kent. Yes. 

Lear. No, I 'say. 

Kent. I say, yea. 

Lear. By Jupiter I swear no. 

Kent. By Juno I swear, I swear ay. 

Lear. They durst not do't ; 
They cou'd not, wou'd not do't ; 'tis worse than Murder, 
To do upon Respect such violent Out-rage. 
Resolve me with aU modest Haste, which Way 
Thou mayst deserve, or they impose this Usage ? 

Kent. My Lord, when at their Home 
I did commend your Highness Letters to them, 
'Ere I was Ris'n arriv'd another Post, 
Steer'd in his Haste, breathless and panting forth 
From Goneril, his Mistress, Salutations, 
Whose Message being dehver'd, they took Horse, 
Commanding me to follow, and attend 
The Leisure of their Answer ; which I did ; 
But meeting that other Messenger, 
Whose Welcome I perceiv'd had poison'd mine ; 
Being the very FeUow that of late 
Had shewn such Rudeness to your Highness, I 
Having more Man than Wit about me, drew ; 
On which he rais'd the House with Coward's Cries : 
This was the Trespass which your Son and Daughter 
Thought worth the Shame you see it suffer here. 

Lear. Oh! how this Spleen swells upward to my 

And heaves for Passage. Down climbing Rage ; 

Thy Element's below ; where is this Daughter ? 

Kent. Within, Sir, at a Masque. 

Act ii] King Lear 201 

Enter Gloster. 

Lear. Now Gloster Ha! 

Deny to speak with me ; th'are sick, th'are weary, 
They have travell'd hard to Night; — mere Fetches; 
Bring me a better Answer, 

Glost. My dear Lord, 
You know the fiery QuaUty of the Duke. 

Lear. Vengeance, Death, Plague, Confusion; 

Fiery! what Quahty, Why Gloster, Gloster, 

I'd speak with the Duke of Cornwal, and his Wife. 

Glost. I have inform'd 'em so. 

Lear. Inform'd 'em! dost thou understand me, Man, 
I teU thee, Gloster, 

Glost. I, my good Lord. 

Lear. The King wou'd speak with Cornwal, the dear 
Wou'd with his Daughter speak, commands her Service. 
Are they inform'd of this ! My Breath and Blood ! 

Fiery ! the fiery Duke ! tell the hot Duke 

No, but not yet, may be he is not well. 
Infirmity does stUl neglect all Office ; 
I beg his Pardon, and I'U chide my Rashness 
That took the indispos'd and sickly Fit 

For the sound Man : But wherefore sits he there ? 

Death on my State, this Act convinces me 
That this Retiredness of the Duke and her 
Is plain Contempt ; give me my Servant forth ; 
Go tell the Duke and 's Wife I'd speak with 'em ; 
Now, instantly, bid 'em come forth and hear me ; 
Or at their Chamber Door I'll beat the Drum, 

'TUl it cry sleep to Death. 

Enter Cornwal and Regan. 
Oh ! Are you come ? 

Duke. Health to the King. 

Reg. I am glad to see your Highness. 

Lear. Regan, I think you are, I know what Cause 

202 The History of [Act ii 

I have to think so ; shou'd'st thou not be glad 
I wou'd divorce me from thy Mother's Tomb ? 
Beloved Regan, thou wilt shake to hear 
What I shall utter : Thou cou'd'st ne'er h'thought it. 
Thy Sister's naught, O Regan, she has ty'd 

[Kent here set at liberty. 
Ingratitude like a keen Vulture here, 
I scarce can speak to thee. 

Reg. I pray you, Sir, take Patience ; I have Hope 
That, you know less to value her Desert, 
Than she to slack her Duty. 

Lear. Ha ! How's that ? 

Reg. I cannot think my Sister in the least 
Would fail in her Respects ; but if perchance 
She has restrain'd the Riots of your Followers, 
'Tis on such Grounds, and to such wholesome Ends, 
As clear her from all Blame. 

Lear. My Curses on her, 

Reg. O Sir, you're old. 
And shou'd content you to be rul'd and led. 
By some Descretion that discerns your State 
Better than yourself ; therefore, Sir, 
Return to our Sister, and say you have wrong' d her. 

Lear. Ha ! Ask her Forgiveness ? 
No, no, 'twas my Mistake, thou didst not mean so 
Dear Daughter, I confess that I am old ; 
Age is unnecessary, but thou art good, 
And wilt dispense with my Infirmity. 

Reg. Good Sir, no more of these unsightly Passions ; 
Return back to our Sister. 

Lear. Never, Regan, 
She has abated me of Half my Train, 
Look'd black upon me, stabb'd me with her Tongue ; 
All the stor'd Vengeances of Heav'n faU 
On her Ingratef uU Head ; strike her young Bones 
Ye taking Ayrs with Lameness. 

Act iij King Lear 203 

Reg. O the blest Gods! Thus will you wish on me. 
When the rash Mood 

Lear. No, Regan, Thou shalt never have my Curse, 
Thy tender Nature cannot give thee o're 
To such Impiety ; Thou better know'st 
The Offices of Nature, Bond of Child-hood, 
And Dues of Gratitude ; thou bear'st in Mind 
The Half o'th' Kingdom, which our Love conferr'd 
On thee and thine. 

Reg. Good Sir, to th' Purpose. 

Lear. Who put my Man i'th' Stocks ? 

Duke. What Trumpet's that ? 

Reg. I know't, my Sister's, this confirms her Let- 
Sir, is your Lady come ? 

Enter Goneril's Gentleman. 

Lear. More Torture stiU : 
This is a Slave, whose easie borrow'd Pride 
Dwells in the fickle Grace of her he f oUows ; 
A Fashion-fop, that spends the Day in dressing, 
And all to bear his Ladle's flatt'ring Message, 
That can dehver with a Grace her Lie, 
And with as bold a Face bring back a greater. 
Out, Varlet, from my Sight. 

Duke. What means your Grace ? 

Lear. Who stockt my Servant ? Regan, I have hope 
Thou didst not know it. 

Enter Goneril. 
Who comes here ? Oh Heav'ns ! 
If you do love old Men ; if your sweet sway, 
AUow Obedience ; if yourselves are Old, 
Make it your Cause, sead down and take my Part ? 
Why, Gorgon, dost thou come to hunt me here ? 
Art not asham'd to look upon this Beard ? 
Darkness upon my Eyes, they play me false, 
O Regan, wilt thou take her by the Hand ? 

204 The History of [Act ii 

Gon, Why not by th' Hand, Sir? How have I 
offended ? 
All's not Offence that Indiscretion finds. 
And Dotage terms so. 

Lear. Heart, thou art too tough. 

Reg. I pray you, Sir, being old, confess you are so. 
If 'till the Expiration of your Month, 
You wUl return and sojourn with our Sister, 
Dismissing half your Train, come then to me ; 
I am now from Home, and out of that Provision 
That shall be needful for your Entertainment. 

Lear. Return with her, and fifty Knights dismisst, 
No, rather I'll forswear aU Roofs, and chuse 
To be Companion to the Midnight Wolf. 
My naked Head expos'd to th' merc'less Air, 
Than have my smallest Wants supply'd by her. 

Gon. At your Choice, Sir. 

Lear. Now, I prithee Daughter, do not make me mad ; 
I will not trouble thee, my Child, farewell. 
We'U meet no more, no more see one another ; 
Let Shame come when it will, I do not call it, 
I do not bid the Thunder-bearer strike, 
Nor tell Tales of thee to avenging Heav'n ; 
Mend when thou canst, be better at thy Leisure, 
I can be patient, I can stay with Regan, 
I, and my hundred Knights. 

Regan. Your Pardon, Sir, 
I lookt not for you yet, nor am provided 
For your fit Welcome. 

Lear. Is this well spoken now ? 

Reg. My Sister treats you fair ; what! fifty Followers ? 
Is it not well ? What should you need of more ? 

Gon. Why might not you, my Lord, receive Attendance 
From those whom she calls Servants, or from mine ? 

Reg. Why not, my Lord? If then they chance to 
slack you. 

Act ii] King Lear 205 

We cou'd controll 'em. — If you come to me, 
For now I see the Danger, I entreat you 
To bring but Five and Twenty ; to no more 
Will I give Place. 

Lear. Hold now, my Temper, stand this Bolt un- 
And I am Thunder- Proof ; 

The wicked, when compar'd with the more Wicked, 
Seem beautiful, and not to be the Worst, 
Stands in some Rank of Praise ; now, Goneril, 
Thou art Innocent agen, I'll go with thee ; 
Thy Fifty yet do's double Five and Twenty, 
And thou art twice her Love. 

Gon. Hear me, my Lord. 
What need you Five and Twenty, Ten, or Five, 
To foUow in a House, where twice so many 
Have a Command t'attend you ? 

Reg. What need one ? 

Lear. Blood! Fire! here Leaprosies and bluest 

Plagues ! 
Room, room for Hell to belch her Horrors up 
And drench the Circes in a Stream of Fire ; 
Hark, how th' Internals eccho to my Rage 
Their Whips and Snakes. 

Reg. How lend a Thing is Passion ! 

Gon. So Old and Stomachfiil. 

[Lightning and Thunder. 

Lear. Heav'ns drop your Patience down ; 
You see me here, ye Gods, a poor old Man, 

As fuU of Grief as Age,* wretched in both 

I'U bear no more : No, you unnatural Haggs, 
I win have«such Revenges on you both. 

That aU the World shall 1 will do such Things, 

What they are yet I know not, but they shall be 
The Terrors of the Earth ; you think I'll weep, 

[Thunder again. 

2o6 The History of ^ [Act iii 

This Heart shall break into a thousand Pieces 

Before I'll weep. O Gods ! I shall gb mad. [Exit. 

. Duke. 'Tis a wild Night, come out o' th' Storm. 

End, of the Second Act. 

Act III. 

SCENE, A Desert Heath. 
Enter Lear and Kent in the Storm. 

- Lear. "DLOW Winds, ,and burst your Cheeks, rage 
13 louder yet,/ 
Fantastick Lightning smge, singe my white Head ;/ 
Spout Cataracts, and Hurricanos fall, f 

"Till you have drown'd the Towns and Palaces 
Of proud ingratefuU Man. 

Kent. Not all my best Intreaties can perswade him 
Into some needfull Shelter, or to 'bide 
This poor slight Cov'ring on his aged Head, 
Expos'd to this wild War of Earth and Heav'n. 

Lear. Rumble thy fill, fight Whirlwind, Rain and Fire ; 

f Not Fire, Wind, Rain, or Thunder are my Daughters : 
1 I tax not you, ye Elements, with Unkindness ; 
I never gave you Kingdoms, caU'd you Children ; 
You owe me no Obedience, then let fall 
Your horrible Pleasure, here I stand your Slave, 
A poor, infirm, weak, and despis'd old Man ; 
Yet will I call you servile Ministers, 
That have with two Pernicious Daughters join'd. 
Their high-engender'd Battle against a Head 
So Old and White as mine ; Oh ! oh ! 'tis Eoul. 
Kent. Hard by. Sir, is a Hovel, that will lend 
Some Shelter from this Tempest. 

Lear. I will forget my Nature, what ! so kind a Father ? 
I, there's the Point. 

Act III] King Lear 207 

Kent. Consider, good my Liege, Things that love 
Love not such Nights as this ; these wrathf ull Skies 
Frighten the very Wanderers o' th' Dark, 
And make 'em keep their Caves ; such drenching Rain, 
Such Sheets of Fire, such Claps of horrid Thunder, 
Such Groans of roaring Winds have ne're been known. 

Lear. Let the great Gods, 
That keep the dreadful Pudder o're our Heads, 
Find out their Enemies now. Tremble thou Wretch, 
That hast within thee undiscover'd Crimes ! 

Hide, that bloody Hand, 

Thou perjur'd Villain, holy Hypocrite, 
That drink'st the Widows Tears, sigh now, and cry 
These dreadful Summoners Grace, I am a Man 
More sin'd against, than sinning. 

Kent. Good Sir, to th' Hovell. 

Lear. My Wit begins to burn. 
Come on my Boy, how dost my Boy ? Art cold ? 
I'm cold my Self ; shew this Straw, my Fellow, 
The Art of our Necessity is strange, 
And can make vile Things precious ; my poor Knave, 
Cold as I am at Heart, I've one Place there 

[Loud. Storm. 
That's sorry yet for Thee. [Exit. 

Gloster's Palace. Enter Bastard. 

Bast. The Storm is in our louder Rev'Hngs drown'd. 
Thus wou'd I Reign, cou'd I but mount a Throne. 
The Riots of these proud imperial Sisters 
Already have impos'd the galling Yoke 
Of Taxes, and hard Impossitions, on 
The drudging Peasant's Neck, who bellow out 
Their loud Complaints in vain — Triumphant Queens! 
With what Assurance do they treat the Crowd. 
O for a Tast of such Majestick Beauty, 
Which none but my hot Veins are fit t' engage ;* 

2o8 The History of [Act iii 

Nor are my Wishes desp'rate, for even now. 
During the Banquet, I observ'd their Glances 
Shot thick at me ; and, as they left the Room, 
Each cast, by stealth, a kind inviting Smile, 
The happy Earnest ^ha ! 

Two Servants, from several Entrances, deliver him each 
a Letter, and Exeunt. 
Where Merit is so Transparent, not to behold it [Reads. 
Were BUndness, and not to reward it Ingratitude. 

Enough ! Blind and Ingratef ull should I be 
Not to obey the Summons of this Oracle. 
Now for a Second Letter. [Opens the other. 

If Modesty be not your Enemy, doubt not to [Reads. 
Find me your Friend. 

Excellent Sybil.' O my glowing Blood! 
I am already sick of Expectation, 

And pant for the Possession. Here Gloster comes 

With Business on his Brow ; be husht my Joys. 
[Enter Gloster.] 

Glost. I come to seek thee, Edmund, to impart a 
Business of Importance; I knew thy loyal Heart is 
toucht to see the Cruelty of these ingratefull Daughters 
against our royal Master 

Bast. Most Savage and Unnatural. 

Glost. This Change in the State sits uneasie. The 
Commons repine aloud at their female Tyrants, already 
they cry out for the Re-Instalment of their good old 
King, whose Injuries, I fear, will inflame 'em into 

Bast. 'Tis to be hop'd, not fear'd. 

Glost. Thou hast it Boy, 'tis to be hop'd indeed ; 
On me they cast their Eyes, and hourly court me 
To lead 'em on ; and whilst this Head is mine, 
I'm Theirs. A little covert Craft, my Boy, 

Act III] King Lear 209 

And then for open Action ; 'twill be Employment 
Worthy such honest daring Souls as thine. 
Thou, Edmund, art my trusty Emissary, 
Haste on the Spur, at the first Break of Day, 

[Gives him Letters. 
With these Dispatches to the Duke of Combray ; 
You know what mortal Feuds have always flam'd 
Between this Duke of Cornwal's Family, and his ; 
Full Twenty Thousand Mountaineers 
Th' inveterate Prince will send to our Assistance. 
Dispatch ; commend us to his Grace, and prosper. 

Bast. Yes, credulous old Man, [Aside. 

I wiU commend you to his Grace, 

His Grace the Duke of Cornwal instantly 

To shew him these Contents in thy own Character, 
And seal'd with thy own Signet ; then forthwith 
The Chol'rick Duke gives Sentence on thy Life ; 
And to my Hand thy vast Revenues, 
To glut my Pleasure that 'till now has starv'd. 
Gloster going off is met by Cordelia eni'ring [with Arante.J 
Bastard observing at a Distance. 

Cord. Turn, Gloster, Turn, by the sacred Pow'rs 
I do conjure you, give my Griefs a Hearing ; 
You must, you shall, nay, I am sure you wiU, 
For you were always styl'd the Just and Good. 

Glost. What wou'd thou. Princess? rise, and speak 
thy Griefs. 

Cord. Nay, you shaU promise to redress 'em too. 
Or here I'll kneel for ever ; I entreat 
Thy Succour for a Father, and a King, 
An injur'd Father, and an injur'd King. 

Bast. O charming Sorrow! How her Tears adorn 
Like Dew on Flow'rs, but she is Virtuous, 
And I must quench this hopeless Fire i' th' kindling. 

Glost. Consider, Princess, 

210 The History of [Act in 

For whom thou beg'st, 'tis for the King that wrong'd 

Cord. O name not that ; he did not, cou'd not wrong 
Nay, muse not, Gloster, for it is too hkely 
This injur'd King e'er this, is past your Aid, 
And gone Distracted with his savage Wrongs. 

Bast. I'll gaze no more, — and yet my Eyes are 

Cord. Or, what if it be worse ? 
As 'tis too probable, this furious Night 
Has pierc'd his tender Body, the bleak Winds, 
And cold Rain chill'd, or Lightning struck him dead ; 
If it be so, your Promise is discharg'd, 
And I have only one poor Boon to beg. 
That you'd convey me to his breathless Trunk, 
With my torn Robes to wrap his hoary Head, 
With my torn Hair to bind his Hands and Feet, 
Then with a Show'r of Tears 
To wash his Clay-smear'd Cheeks, and Die beside him. 

Glost. Rise, fair Cordelia, thou hast Piety 
Enough t'attone for both thy Sisters Crimes. 
I have already plotted to restore 
My injur'd Master, and thy Vertue teUs me 
We shall succeed, and suddenly. {Exit. 

Cord. Dispatch, Arante, 
Provide me a Disguise, we'll instantly 
Go seek the King, and bring him some Relief. 

Ar. How, Madam ! Are you Ignorant 
Of what your impious Sisters have decreed ? 
Immediate Death for any that relieve him. 

Cord. I cannot dread the Furies in this Case. 

Ar. In such a Night as this ? Consider Madam, 
For many Miles ajbout there's scarce a Bush 
To shelter in. 

Cord. Therefore no shelter for the King, 

Act III] King Lear 211 

And more our Charity to find him out : 

What have not Women dar'd for vicious Love ? 

And we'll be shining Proofs that they can dare 

For Piety as much. Blow Winds, and Light'nings fall, 

Bold in my Virgin Innocence, I'll fly 

My Royal Father to relieve, or die. [Exit [with Arante.] 

Bast. Provide me a Disguise, we'll instantly 

Go seek the King ; ha ! ha ! A lucky Change, 

That Vertue which I fear'd would be my Hind'rance, 
Has prov'd the Bond to my Design ; 
I'U bribe two Ruffians shall at Distance follow, 
And seise 'em in some desert Place ; and there 
Whilst one retains her, t'other shall return 
T'inform me where she's lodg'd ; I'U be Disguis'd too, 
Whilst they are poching for me, I'll to the Duke 
With these Dispatches, then to th' Field, 
Where, like the vig'rous Jove, I will enjoy 
This Semele in a Storm, 'twill deaf her Cries 
Like Drums in Battle, lest her Groans should pierce 
My pittying Ear, and make the amorous Fight less fierce. 


Storm still. The Field Scene. Enter Lear and Kent. 

Kent. Here is the Place my Lord; good my Lord 
enter ; 
The Tyranny of this open Night's too rough 
For Nature to endure. 

Lear. Let me alone. 

Kent. Good my Lord ; enter. 

Lear. Wilt break my Heart ? 

Kent. Beseech you, Sir. 

Lear. Thou think'st 'tis much that this contentious 
Invades us to the Skin ; so 'tis to thee ; 
But where the greater Malady is fixt. 
The lesser is scarce felt : The Tempest in my Mind 
Does from my Senses take all feeling else. 

212 The History of [Act in 

Save what beats there. Filial Ingratitude ! 
Is it not as this Mouth should tear this Hand 

For lifting Food to't ? But I'll punish home. 

No, I will no more ; in such a Night 

To shut me out Pour on, I wiU endure 

In such a Night as this : O Regan, Goneril ! 
Your old kind Father, whose frank Heart gave All ; 
O that Way madness lies ; let me shun that ; 
No more of that. 
Kent. See, my Lord, here's the Entrance. 
Lear. Well, I'll go in 
And pass it all, I'll pray, and then I'll sleep : 
["Poor naked Wretches, wheresoe're you are, 
, _^^ Ji That 'bide the pelting of this pittiless Storm, 
T^ ** <P°^ ^^^^ your houseless Heads and unfed Sides^ 

M'"'-^^^ ^-eustain this Shock ? Your raggedness defend you 
/^y"'"^' I From Seasons such as these. 
r.'^^ f"^ \ O! I have ta'en too little Care of this, 
tj^„,„^ «/— 4^ake Physick, Pomp, 

7Xc^ J Expose thy self to feel what Wretches feel. 

That thou may'st cast the Superflux to them, 
_And shew the Heav'ns more just. 
Edgar in the Hovell. 
Five Fathom and a half, poor Tom. 

Kent. What art thou that dost grumble there i' th' 
Straw ? 
Come forth. 

{Enter Edgar disguis'd as a madman.] 
Edg. Away! The foul Fiend follows me — Through 

the sharp Haw-Thorn blows the cold Wind. Mum, 

go to the Bed and warm thee. Ha! What do I see ? 

By aU my Griefs the poor old King bareheaded. 
And drencht in this fowl Storm, professing Syren, 
Are all your Protestations come to this ? 

Lear. Tell me. Fellow, did'st thou give all to thy 
Daughters ? 

Act III] King Lear 213 

Edg. Who gives any Thing to poor Tom, whom the 
foul Fiend has led through Fire, and through Flame, 
through Bushes, and Bogs ; that has laid Knives under 
his Pillow, and Halters in his Pue ; that has made him 
proud of Heart to ride on a Bay-trotting Horse over 
four inch'd Bridges, to course his own Shadow for a 

Traitor. Bless thy five Wits. Tom's a cold. 

{Shivers.} Bless thee from Whirl- Winds, Star-blasting, 
and Taking : Do poor Tom some Charity, whom the foul 
Fiend vexes. — Sa, sa ; there I could have him now, and 
there, and there agen. 

Lear. Have his Daughters brought him to this pass ? 
Cou'dst thou save Nothing ? Didst thou give them All ? 

Kent. He has no Daughters, Sir. 

Lear. Death, Traytor, nothing cou'd have subdu'd 
To such a Lowness but his unkind Daughters. 

Edg. Pillicock sat upon Pillicock Hill; HaUo, hallo, 

Lear. Is it the Fashion that discarded Fathers 
Should have such little Mercy on their Flesh ? 
Judicious Punishment, 'twas his Flesh begot 
Those Pelican Daughters. 

Edg. Take heed of the fowl Fiend ; obey thy Parents, 
keep thy Word justly; swear not; commit not with 
Man's sworn Spouse ; set not thy sweet Heart on proud 
Array ; Tom's a cold. 

Lear. What hast thou been ? 

Edg. A serving Man proud of Heart, that curl'd my "| 
Hair, us'd Perfume and Washes ; that serv'd the Lust of \ 
my Mistresses Heart, and did the Act of Darkness with \ 
her ; swore as many Oaths as I spoke Words ; and \ 
broke 'em all in the sweet Face of Heaven : Let not ' 
the Paint, nor the Patch, nor the Rushing of Silks be- 
tray thy poor Heart to Women ; keep thy Foot out of I 
Brothels, thy Hand out of Plackets, thy Pen from Cre-I 

214 The History of [Act in 

ditors Books, and defie the foul Fiend. — Still through 

the Haw-Thorn blows the cold Wind. Sess, Suum, 

Mun, Nonny, Dolphin, my Boy! — Hist, the Boy the 
Boy ! Sesey ! Soft, let him trot by. 

Lear. Death! thou wert better in thy Grave, then 
thus to answer with thy uncover'd Body, this Extremity 
of the Sky. And yet consider him well, and Man's no 
more than this ; thou art indebted to the Worm for no 
Silk, to the Beast for no Hide, to the Cat for no Perfume. 

Ha ! here's two of us are Sophisticated ; thou art 

the Thing itself, unaccomodated Man is no more than 

such a poor bare fork'd Animal as thou art. 

Off, off, ye vain Disguises, empty Tendings, 

I'll be my Original Self, quick, quick. Uncase me. 

Kent. Defend his Wits, good Heaven ! 

Lear. One Point I had forgot ; what's your Name ? 

Edg. Poor Tom, that eats the swiming Frog, the 
Wall-Newt and the Water Newt ; that in the Fury of his 
Heart, when the foul Fiend rages, eats Cow-Dung for 
Sallets, swallows the old Rat, and the Ditch-Dog, that 
drinks the green Mantle of the standing Pool, that's 
whipt from Tithing to Tithing, that has three Suits to 
his Back, Six Shirts to his Body. 

Horse to ride, and Weapon to wear. 
But Rats and Mice, and such small Deer, 
Have been Tom's Food for seven long Year. 
Beware, my Follower ; Peace, Smulkin, Peace, thou foul 

Lear. One Word more, but be sure true Councel ; tell 
me, is a Madman a Gentleman, or a Yeoman ? 

Kent. I fear'd 'twou'd come to this ; his Wits are gone. 

Edg. Fraterreto calls me, and teUs me, Nero, is an 
Angler in the Lake of Darkness. Pray, Innocent, and 
beware the foul Fiend. 

Lear. Right, ha! ha! Was it not Pleasant to have a 
Thousand with red hot Spits come hizzing in upon 'em. 

Act III] King Lear 215 

Edg. My Tears begin to take his Part so much 
They marr my Counterfeiting. \AsiAe. 

Lear. The little Dogs and aU, Trey, Blanch, and 
Sweet-Heart, see they bark at me. 

Edg. Tom will throw his Head at 'em; avaunt, ye 

Be thy Mouth, or black, or white. 
Tooth that poysons if it bite ; 
Mastiff, Grey-Hound, MungreU, Grim, 
Hound, or Spanniel, Brach, or dym ; 
Bob-Tail, Tight, or Trundle-Tail, 
Tom will make 'em weep and wail ; 
For with throwing thus my Head, 
Dogs leap the Hatch, and all are fled. 
Ud, de, de, de. See, see, see. Come, march to Wakes, 

and Fairs, and Market-Towns. Poor Tom, thy Horn 

is dry. 

Lear. You, Sir, I entertain you for One of my Hun- 
dred, only I do not like the Fashion of your Garments ; 
you'll say they're Persian, but no Matter, let 'em be 

Enter Gloster. 
Edg. This is the foul Flibertigibet ; he begins at Cur- 
few, and walks at first Cock, he gives the Web, and the 
Pin ; knits the Elfiock ; squints the Eye, and makes the 
Hair-Lip; mildews the white Wheat, and hurts the 
poor Creature of the Earth. 

Swithin footed Thrice the Cold, 

He met the Night-Mare and her Nine-Fold, 

'Twas there he did appoint her ; 
He bid her alight, and her Troth plight, 
And arroynt the Witch arroynt her. 
Glost. What, has your Grace no better Company? 
Edg. The Prince of Darkness is a Gentleman ; Modo 
he is call'd, and Mahu. 

Glost. Go with me. Sir, hard by I have a Tenant. 

2i6 The History of [Act iii 

My Duty cannot suffer me to obey in all your Daugh- 
ters hard Commands, who have enjojm'd me to make 
fast my Doors, and let this tyrannous Night take hold 
upon you. Yet have I ventured to come to seek you 
out, and bring you where both Fire and Food is 

Kent. Good my Lord take his Offer. 

Lear. First let me talk with this Philosopher ; 
Say, Stagirite, what is the Cause of Thunder. 

Glost. Beseech you, Sir, go with me. 

Lear. I'll take a Word with this same learned Thehan. 
What is your study ? 

Edg. How to prevent the Fiend, and to kill Vermin. 

Lear. 'Let me ask you a Word in private. 

Kent. His Wits are quite unsettled; good Sir, let's 
force him hence. 

Glost. Can'st blame him? His Daughters seeks his 
Death ; this Bedlam but disturbs him the more. Fellow, 
be gone. 

Edg. Child Rowland to the dark Tow'r came. 
His Word, was still, Fi, Fo, and Fum, 

I smell the Blood of a British Man. Oh ! Torture ! 


Glost. Now, I prethee Friend, let's take him in our 
Arms, and carry him where he shall meet both Welcome, 

and Protection. 
Good Sir, along with us. 

Lear. You say right, let 'em Anatomize Regan, for 
what breeds about her Heart; is there any Cause in 
Nature for these hard Hearts ? 

Kent. I beseech your Grace. 

Lear. Hist ! Make no Noise, make no Noise so 

so ; we'll to Supper i' th' Morning. \Exeunt. 

Enter Cordeha and Arante. 

Ar. Dear Madam, rest ye here, our Search is vain. 
Look, here's a Shed ; beseech ye, enter here. 

Act III] King Lear 217 

Cord. Prethee go thy self, seek thy own Ease, 
Where the Mind's free, the Body's deHcate ; 
This Tempest but diverts me from the Thought 
Of what would hurt me more. 

Enter two Ruffians. 

1. Ruff. We have dogg'd 'em far enough, this Place is 
private ; 

I'll keep 'em Prisoners here within this Hovel, 
Whilst you return and bring Lord Edmund hither ; 
But help me first to House 'em. 

2. Ruff. Nothing but this, dear Devil, [Shows Gold. 
Shou'd have drawn me through all this Tempest ; 

But to our Work. 

\They seize Cordelia and Arante, who shriek out.- 
Soft Madam, we are Friends ; dispatch, I say. 

Cord. Help, Murder, help ; Gods ! Some kind Thun- 
To strike me dead. 

Enter Edgar. 

Edg. What Cry was that ? Ha, Women seiz'd by 

Ruffians ? 
Is this a Place and Time for Villany ? 
Avaunt, ye Bloud-Hounds. 

[Drives 'em with his Quarter Staff. 
Both. The Devil, the Devil! [Run off. 

Edg. O speak, what are ye that appear to be 
O' th' tender Sex, and yet unguarded wander 
Through the dread Mazes of this dreadful Night, 
Where (tho' at full) the clouded Moon scarce darts 
Imperfect Glimmerings ? 

Cord. First say, what art thou ? 
Our Guardian Angel, that wer't pleas'd t'assume 
That horrid Shape to fright the Ravishers ? 
We'll kneel to thee. 

Edg. O my tumultuous Blood ! 
By all my trembling Veins, Cordelia's Voice ! 

2i8 The History of [Act iii 

'Tis she herself ! My Senses sure confirm 

To my wild Garb, and I am mad indeed. [Aside. 

Cord. What e'er thou art, befriend a wretched Virgin, 
And, if thou canst, direct our weary Search. 

Edg. Who relieves poor Tom, that sleeps on the 
JS"ettle, with the Hedge Pig for his PiUow. 
Whilst Smug ply'd the Bellows 
She truckt with her FeUows, 
The Freckle-Fac't Mab 
Was a Blouze, and a Drab, 
Yet Swithin made Oberon jealous. Oh! Torture. 

Ar. Alack! Madam, a poor wand'ring Lunatick. 

Cord. And yet his Language seem'd but now well 
Speak, Friend, to one more wretched than thy self ; 
And if thou hast one Interval of Sense, 
Inform us, if thou canst, where we may find 
A poor old Man, who through this heath has stray'd 
The tedious Night. — Speak, sawest thou such a one ? 

Edg. The King her Father, whom she's come to seek ; 
Through all the Terrors of this Night : OGods! [Aside. 
That such amazing Piety, such Tenderness 
Shou'd yet to me be Cruel. 
Yes, Fair One, such a one was lately here. 
And is convey'd by some that came to seek him, 
To a Neighb'ring Cottage ; but distinctly where, 
I know not. 

Cord. Blessings on 'em ; 
Let's find him out, Arante, for thou seest 
We are in Heavens Protection. [Going off. 

Edg. O Cordelial 

Cord. Ha ! Thou know'st my Name. 

Edg. As you did once know Edgar's. 

Cord. Edgar \ 

Edg. The poor Remains of Edgar, what your Scorn 
Has left him. 

Cord. Do we wake, Arante} 

Act III] King Lear 219 

Edg. My Father seeks my Life, which I preserv'd, 
In hopes of some blest Minute to obHdge 
Distrest Cordelia, and the Gods have giv'n it ; 
That Thought alone prevail'd with me to take I 

This Frantick Dress, to make the Earth my Bed, 
With these bare Limbs all Change of Seasons bide, 
Noons scorching Heat, and Midnights piercing Cold, 
To feed on Offals, and to drink with Herds, 
To combat with the Winds, and be the Sport 
Of Clowns, or what's more wretched yet, their Pity. 

Ar. Was ever Tale so fuU of Misery! 

Edg. But such a Fall as this I grant was due 
To my aspiring Love, for 'twas presumptuous, 
Though not presumtuously pursu'd ; 
For well you know I wore my Flames conceal'd, 
And silent as the Lamps that burn in Tombs 
'Till you perceiv'd my Grief, with modest Grace 
Drew forth the Secret, and then seal'd my Pardon. 

Cord. You had your Pardon, nor can you challenge 

Edg. What do I challenge more ? 
Such Vanity agrees not with these Rags ; 
When in my prosp'rous State, rich Gloster's Heir, 
You silenc'd my Pretences, and enjoyn'd me ^^^, ^ 

To trouble you upon that Theam no more ; '-^ *^-'' 

Then what Reception must Loves Language find ^'''^■ 

From these bare Limbs and Beggar's humble Weeds? 

Cord. Such as a Voice of Pardon to a Wretch con- 
demn'd ; 
Such as the Shouts 
Of succ'ring Forces to a Town besieg'd. 

Edg. Ahl What new Method now of Cruelty! -j ^,,, 

Cord. Come to my Arms, thou dearest, best of Menu | . ' , 
And take the kindest Vows that e'er were spoke / i ""^ ^ 

By a protesting Maid. J 

Edg. Is't possible ? 

Cord. By the dear Vital Stream that bathes my Heart, 

220 The History of [Act iii 

These hallowed Rags of thine, and naked Virtue, 
These abject Tassels, these fantastick Shreds, ""^ 
(Ridiculous ev'n to the meanest Clown) 
To me are dearer than the richest Pomp 
Of purple Monarchs. 

Edg. Generous charming Maid, 
The Gods alone that made, can rate thy Worth ! 
This most amazing Excellence shall be 
Fame's Triumph in succeeding Ages, when 
Thy bright Example shall adorn the Scene, 
And teach the World Perfection. 

Cord. Cold and weary. 
We'll rest a while, Arante, on that Straw, 
Then forward to find out the poor old King. 

EAg. Look, I have Flint and Steel, the Implements 
Of wand' ring Lunaticks ; I'll strike a Light, 
And make a Fire beneath this Shed, to dry 
Thy Storm drencht Garments, 'ere thou lie to rest thee ; 
Then fierce and wakeful as th' Hesperian Dragon, 
I'U watch beside thee to protect thy Sleep ; 
Mean while the Stars shall dart their kindest Beams, 
And Angels visit my Cordelia's Dreams. \Exeunt. 

SCENE, the Palace. 

Enter Cornwall, Regan, Bastard, Servants. Cornwall 

with Gloster's Letters. 

Duke. I will have my Revenge e're I depart his House 
Regan, see here, a Plot upon our State ; 
'Tis Gloster's Character, that has betray'd 
His double Trust of Subject, and of Host. 

Reg. Then double be our Vengeance, this confirms 
Th' Intelligence that we now receiv'd, 
That he has been this Night to seek the King ; 
But who. Sir, was the kind Discoverer ? 

Duke. Our Eagle, quick to spy, and fierce to seize ; 
Our trusty Edmund. 

Act III] King Lear 221 

Reg. 'Twas a noble Service ; 
O Cornwal, take him to thy deepest Trust, 
And wear him as a Jewel at thy Heart. 

Bast. Think, Sir, how hard a Fortune I sustain, 
That makes me thus repent of serving you ; [Weeps. 
O that this Treason had not been, or I 
Not the Discoverer. 

Duke. Edmund, thou shaU find 
A Father in our Love, and from this Minute 
We call thee Earl of Gloster ; but there yet 
Remains another Justice to be done. 
And that's to punish this discarded Traytor ; 
But lest thy tender Nature should relent 
At his just Sufferings, nor brook the Sight, 
We wish thee to withdraw. 

Reg. The Grotto, Sir, within the lower Grove 
Has Privacy to suit a Mourner's Thought. 

[To Edmund aside. 

Bast. And there I may expect a Comforter, 
Ha, Madam ? 

Reg. What may happen, Sir, I know not. 
But 'twas a Friend's Advice. [Exit Bastard. 

Duke. Bring in the Traytor. 

Gloster brought in. 
Bind fast his Arms. 

Glost. What mean your Graces ? 
You are my Guests, pray do me no foul Play. 

Duke. Bind him, I say, hard, harder yet. 

Reg. Now, Traytor, thou shalt find- 

Duke. Speak, Rebel, where hast thou sent the King ? 
Whom, spight of our Decree, thou saw'st last Night. 

Glost. I'm ty'd to th' Stake, and must stand the 

Reg. Say where, and why thou hast conceal'd him? 

Glost. Because I wou'd not see thy cruel Hands 
Tear out his poor old Eyes, nor thy fierce Sister 

22 2 The History of [Act iii 

Carve his anointed Flesh ; but I shall see 

The swift wing'd Vengeance overtake such Children. 

Duke. See't thou shalt never. Slaves perform your 
Out with those treacherous Eyes ; dispatch, I say, 
If thou seest Vengeance. 

Glost. He that will think to live 'till he be old. 

Give me some Help. O cruel! oh! ye Gods. 

\They put out his Eyes. 

Serv. Hold, hold, my Lord, I bar your Cruelty, 
I cannot love your safety, and give Way 
To such a barbarous Practise. 

Duke. Ha ? my Villain. 

Serv. I have been your Servant from my Infancy, 
But better Service have I never done you 
Than with this Boldness. 

Duke. Take thy Death, Slave. 

Serv. Nay, then revenge whilst yet my Bloud is warm. 


Reg. Help here. Are you not hurt, my Lord ? 

Glost. Edmund, enkindle all the Sparks of Nature 
To quit this horrid Act. 

Reg. Out treacherous VUlain, 
Thou caU'st on him that hates thee, it was he 
That broacht thy Treason, shew'd us thy Dispatches; 

There, ^read, and save the Cambrian Prince a Labour. 

If thy Eyes fail thee, call for Spectacles. 

Glost. O my Folly ! 
Then Edgar, was abus'd, kind Gods, forgive me that. 

Reg. How is't, my Lord ? 

Duke. Turn out that Eye-less ViUain, let him smell 
His Way to Camhray, throw this Slave upon a Dunghil. 
Regan, I bleed a pace, give me your Arm. {Exeunt. 

Glost. AU Dark, and Comfortless ! 
Where are those various Objects, that, but now, 
Employ' d my busie Eyes ? Where those Eyes ? 

Act iv] King Lear 223; 

Dead are their piercing Rays that lately shot 
O'er flow'ry Vales to distant Sunny Hills, 
And drew with Joy the vast Horizon in. 
These groping Hands are now my only Guides, 
And Feeling all my Sight. 

Misery ! What Words can sound my Grief ? 
Shut from the Living whilst amongst the Living ;. 
Dark as the Grave amidst the bustling World. 
At once from Business, and from Pleasure bar'd : 
No more to view the Beauty of the Spring, 

Nor see the Face of Kindred, or of Friend ; 
Yet stiU one Way th' extreamest Fate affords. 
And ev'n the Blind can find the Way to Death. 
Must I then tamely die, and unreveng'd ? 
So Lear may fall : No, with these bleeding Rings 

1 will present me to the pitying Croud, 

And with the Rhetorick of these dropping Veins 

Enfiame 'em to revenge their King and me ; 

Then when the glorious Mischief is on Wing, 

This Lumber from some Precipice I'll throw. 

And dash it on the ragged Flint below ; 

Whence my freed Soul to her bright Sphear shall fly,!* 

Through boundless Orbs, eternal Regions spy, V 

And, hke the Sun, be All one glorious Eye. [Exit.] 

End of the Third Act. 

Act IV. 

A Grotto. 
Edmund and Regan amorously Seated, listening to 


Bast. WJWi were those Beauties made another's- 

VV right. 
Which none can prize like me ? Charming Queen, 
Take my blooming Youth, for ever fold me 

2 24 The History of [Act iv 

In those soft Arms, lull me in endless Sleep, 
That I may dream of Pleasures too transporting 
For Life to bear. 

Reg. Live, live, my Gloster, 
And feel no Death, but that of swooning Joy ? 
I yield the Blisses on no harder Terms 
Than that thou continue to be happy. 

Bast. This Jealousy is yet more kind, is't possible 
That I should wander from a Paradise 
To feed on sickly Weeds ? Such Sweets live here 
That Constancy will be no Vertue in me : 
And yet must I forthwith go meet her Sister, [Aside. 

To whom, I must protest as much, 

Suppose it be the same ; why, best of aU, 
And I have then my Lesson already conn'd. 

Reg. Wear this Remembrance of me. 1 dare now 

[Gives him a Ring. 
Absent my self no longer from the Duke, 
Whose Wound grows Dangerous, I hope Mortal. 

Bast. And let this happy Image of your Gloster, 

[Pulling out a Picture, drops a Note. 
Lodge in that Breast where aU his Treasure lies. [Exit. 

Reg. To this brave Youth a Woman's blooming 

Are due ; my Fool usurps my Bed What's here ? 

Confusion on my Eyes. [Reads. 

Where Merit is transparent, not to behold it were 
Blindness ; and not to reward it. Ingratitude. 

Vexatious Accident ! Yet fortunate too, 
My Jealousie's confirmed, and I am taught 

To cast for my Defence [Enter an Officer. 

Now, what mean those Shouts? And that thy hasty 
Entrance ? 

Off. A most surprizing and a sudden Change ; 
The Peasants are all up in Mutiny, 

Act iv] King Lear 225 

And only want a Chief to lead 'em on 
To storm your Palace. 

Reg. On what Provocation ? 

Off. At last Day's publick Festival, to which 
The Yeomen from all Quarters had repair'd. 
Old Gloster, whom you late depriv'd of Sight, 
(His Veins yet streaming fresh,) presents himself. 
Proclaims your Cruelty, and their Oppression, 
With the King's Injuries ; which so enrag'd 'em. 
That now that Mutiny, which long had crept, 
Takes Wing, and threatens your best Pow'rs. 

Reg. White-liver'd Slave! 
Our Forces rais'd, and led by valiant Edmund, 
ShaU drive this Monster of Rebellion back 
To her dark CeU ; young Gloster' s Arm allays 
The Storm, his Father's feeble Breath did raise. [Exit. 

The Field SCENE, Enter Edgar. 

Edg. The lowest and most abject Thing of Fortune 
Stands stiU in Hope, and is secure from Fear ; 
The lamentable Change is from the Best, 

The worst returns to better. Who comes here ? 

Enter Gloster, led hy an old Man. 
My Father poorly led! depriv'd of Sight! 
The precious Stones torn from their bleeding Rings ! 
Something I heard of this inhumane Deed, 
But disbeliev'd it, as an Act too horrid 
For the hot HeU of a curst Woman's Fury ; 
When will the Measure of my Woes be full ? 

Glost. Revenge, thou art on foot. Success attend 
Well have I sold my Eyes, if the Event 
Prove happy for the injur'd King. 

Old M. O, my good Lord, I have been your Tenant, 
and your Father's Tenant these Fourscore Years. 

Glost. Away, get thee away, good Friend be gone, 


226 The History of [Act iv 

Thy Comforts can do me no good at all. 
Thee they may hurt. 

Old M. You cannot see your Way. 

Glost. I have no Way, and therefore want no Eyes, 
I stumbled when I saw : O dear Son Edgar, 
The Food of thy abused Father's Wrath, 
Might I but Uve to see thee in my Touch, 
I'd say, I had Eyes agen. 

Edg. Alas, he's sensible that I was wrong'd, 
And shou'd I own myself, his tender Heart 
Would break betwixt the Extreams of Grief and Joy. 

Old M. How now, who's there ? 

Edg. A Charity for poor Tom. Play fair, and defy the 
foul Fiend. 
O Gods! And must I still pursue this Trade, [Aside. 
Trifling beneath such Loads of Misery ? 

Old M. 'Tis poor mad Tom. 

Glost. In the late Storm, I such a Fellow saw. 
Which made me think a Man a Worm, 
Where is the Lunatick ? 

Old M. Here, my Lord. , 

Glost. Get thee now away, if for my Sake 
Thou wilt o're-take us hence a Mile, or two, 
I' th' Way tow'rd Dover, do't for ancient Love, 
And bring some Cov'ring for this naked Wretch, 
Whom I'll intreat to lead me. 

Old M. Alack, my Lord, he's Mad. 

Glost. 'Tis the Time's Plague when Mad-Men lead the 
Do as I bid thee. 

Old M. I'U bring him the best 'Parrel that I have. 
Come on't what will. [Exit. 

Glost. Sirrah, naked FeUow. 

Edg. Poor Tom's a cold ; 1 cannot fool it longer, 

And yet I must. Bless thy sweet Eyes, they bleed ; 

Beheve't poor Tom ev'n weeps his Blind to see 'em. 

Act iv] King Lear 227 

Glost. Know'st thou the Way to Dover ? 

Edg. Both Stile and Gate, Horse Way and Foot-Path ; 
poor Tom has been scar'd out of his good Wits ; bless 
every true Man's Son from the foul Fiend. 

Glost. Here take this Purse ; that I am wretched 
Makes thee the happier, Heav'n deal so still. 
Thus let the griping Userers Hoard be scatter'd. 
So Distribution shall undo Excess 
And each Man have enough. Dost thou know Dover ? 

Edg. I, Master. 

Glost. There's a Cliff, whose high and bending Head 
Looks dreadfully down on the roaring Deep ; 
Bring me but to the very Brink of it. 
And I'U repair the Poverty thou bear'st 
With something rich about me, from that Place 
I shall no leading need. 

Edg. Give me thy Arm: Poor Tom shall guide 

Glost. Soft, for I hear the Tread of Passengers. 
Enter Kent and Cordeha. 

Cord. Ah me! your Fear's too true, it was the King; 
I spoke but now with some that met him 
As mad as the vex'd Sea singing aloud, 
Crown'd with rank Femiter, and Furrow Weeds, 
With Berries, Burdocks, Violets, Dazies, Poppies, 
And aU the idle Flowers that grow 
In our sustaining Corn ; conduct me to him. 
And Heav'n so prosper thee. 

Kent. I will, good Lady. 

Ha, Gloster here! Turn, poor dark Man, and hear 

A Friend's Condolement, who at Sight of thine 
Forgets his own Distress, thy old true Kent. 

Glost. How, Kent ? From whence return' d ? 
Kent. I have not since my Banishment been absent, 
But in Disguise follow' d th' abandon' d King : 
'Twas me thou saw'st with him in the late Storm. 

228 The History of [Act iv 

Glo&t. Let me embrace thee, had I Eyes, I now 
Should weep for Joy ; but let this trickling Blood 
Suffice instead of Tears. 

Cor A. O Misery! 
To whom shall I complain, or in what Language ? 
Forgive, O wretched Man, the Piety 
That brought thee to this Pass, 'twas I that caus'd it ; 
I cast me at thy Feet and beg of thee 
To crush these weeping Eyes to equal Darkness, 
If that will give thee any Recompence. 

Edg. Was ever Season so distrest as this? [Aside. 

Glost. I think Cordelia's Voice ! rise pious Princess, 
And take a dark Man's Blessing. 

Cord. O, my Edgar ! 
My Vertue's now grown guilty, works the Bane 
Of those that do befriend me, Heav'n forsakes me. 
And when you look that Way, it is but just 
That you shou'd hate me too. 

Edg. O wave this cutting Speech, and spare to Wound 
A Heart that's on the Rack. 

Glost. No longer cloud thee, Kent in that Disguise, 
There's Business for thee, and of noblest Weight ; 
Our injur'd Country is at length in Arms, 
Urg'd by the King's inhumane Wrongs and Mine, 
And only want a Chief to lead 'em on. 
That Task be thine. 

Edg. Brave Britains, then there's Life in't yet. [Aside. 

Kent. Then have we one Cast for our Fortune yet. 
Come, Princess, I'll bestow you with the King, 
Then on the Spur to head these Forces. 
Farewel, good Gloster, to our conduct trust. 

Glost. And be your Cause as prosp'rous as 'tis just. 

Goneril's Palace. Enter GonerU, Attendants. 

Gon. It was great Ignorance, Gloster' s Eyes being out, 
To let him live, where he arrives he moves 

Act iv] King Lear 229 

All Hearts against us ; Edmund I think is gone. 
In Pity to his Misery, to dispatch him. 

Gent. No, Madam, he's return'd on speedy Summons 
Back to your Sister. 

Gon. Ha ! I like not that, 
Such speed must have the Wings of Love; where's 

Gent. Madam, within, but never Man so chang'd ; 
I told him of the Uproar of the Peasants, 
He smil'd at it, when I inform'd him 
Of Gloster's Treason. 

Gon. Trouble him no farther, 
It is his coward Spirit ; back to our Sister, 
Hasten her Musters, and let her know 
I have giv'n the Distaff into my Husband's Hands. 
That done, with special Care deliver these Dispatches 
In private to young Gloster. 

Enter a Messenger. 

Mess. O Madam, most unseasonable News, 
The Duke of Cornwall's dead of his late Wound, 
Whose Loss your Sister has in Part supply'd. 
Making brave Edmund General of her Forces. 

Gon. One Way I like this well ; 
But being a Widow, and my Gloster with her, 
May blast the promis'd Harvest of our Love. 

A Word more. Sir, add Speed to your Journey, 

And if you chance to meet with that blind Traitor, 
Preferment falls on him that cuts him off. [Exeunt. 

The Field SCENE, Gloster and Edgar. 
Glost. When shall we come to th' Top of that same 

Edg. We cUmb it now, mark how we labour. 
Glost. Methinks the Ground is even. 
Edg. Horrible Steep ; heark, do you hear the Sea ? 
Glost. No truly. 

230 The History of [Act iv 

EAg. Why then your other Senses grow imperfect 
By your Eyes Anguish. 
''-'*■ Glost. So may it be indeed. 
Methinks thy Voice is alter'd, and thou speak'st 
In better Phrase and Matter than thou didst. 

Edg. You are much deceiv'd, in nothing am I alter'd 
But in my Garments. 

Glost. Methinks y'are better spoken. 

Edg. Come on. Sir, here's the Place, how fearfull 
And dizzy 'tis to cast one's Eyes so low. 
The Crows and Choughs that Wing the mid- Way Air 
Shew scarce so big as Beetles ; half Way down 
Hangs one that gathers Sampire, dreadf ull Trade ! 
The Fisher-Men that walk upon the Beach _ 
Appear like Mice ; and yon tall Anch'ring Barque 
Seems lessen'd to her Cock, her Cock a Buoy, 
^ gii. r^lmost too small for Sight ; the murmuring Surge 
.^Ijr^ I Cannot be heard so high ; I'll look no more 
^^^"^^^al^ Lest my Brain turn, and the Disorder make me 
jjj^ ^ Tumble down head-long. 
"^^ Glost. Set me where you stand. 

Edg. You are now within a Foot of th'extream 
For aU beneath the Moon I wou'd not now 
Leap forward. 

Glost. Let go my Hand ; 
Here, Friend, is another Purse, in it a Jewel 
Well worth a poor Man's Taking ; get thee farther, 
Bid me farewel, and let me hear thee going. 

Edg. Fare you well, Sir. That I do trifle thus 

With this his Despair, is with Design to cure it. 

Glost. Thus, mighty Gods, this World I do renounce, 
And in your Sight shake my Afflictions off ; 
If I cou'd bear 'em longer, and not fall 
To quarrel with your great opposeless WiUs, 
My Snuff and feebler Part of Nature shou'd 

Act iv] King Lear 231 

Burn itself out ; if Edgar liv'd, 0, bless him. 
Now, Fellow, fare thee well. 

Edg. Gone, Sir, Farewell. 
And yet I know not how Conceit may rob 
The Treasury of Life, had he been where he thought. 

By this had Thought been past. Alive, or Dead ? 

Hoa, Sir, Friend ; hear you. Sir, speak. 

Thus might he pass indeed, yet he revives. 

What are you. Sir ? 

Glost. Away, and let me die. 

Edg. Hadst thou been ought but Gosmore Feathers, 
Falling so many Fathom down. 

Thou hadst shiver'd like an Egg ; but thou dost breathe. 
Hast heavy Substance, bleed'st ? Not speak ! Art sound ? 
Thy Life's a Miracle. 

Glost. But have I fain, or no ? 

Edg. From the dread Summet of this chalky Bourn : 
Look up, an Height, the shrill tun'd Lark so high 
Cannot be seen, or heard ; do but look up. 

Glost. Alack, I have no Eyes. 
Is Wretchedness depriv'd that Benefit 
To End it self by Death ? 

Edg. Give me your Arm. 
Up ; so, how is't ? Feel you your Legs ? You stand. 

Glost. Too well, too well. 

Edg. Upon the Brow o' th' Cliff, what Thing was that 
Which parted from you ? 

Glost. A poor unfortunate Beggar. 

Edg. As I stood here below, methought his Eyes 
Were two fuU Moons, wide Nostrils breathing Fire. 
It was some Fiend, therefore thou happy Father, 
Think that th' all powerfull Gods, who made them 

Of Mens Impossibilities, have preserv'd thee. 

Glost. 'Tis wonderfull; henceforth I'll bear Affliction 

232 The History of [Act iv 

'Till it expire ; the Goblin which you speak of, 

I took for a Man ; oft-times t'would say, 

The Fiend, the Fiend : He led me to that Place. 

Edg. Bear free and patient Thoughts ? But who comes 

Enter Lear, a Coronet of Flowers on his Head ; 
Wreaths, and Garlands about him. 

Lear. No, no; they cannot touch me for coyning; 
I am the King himself. 

Edg. O piercing Sight. 

Lear. Nature's above Art in that Respect; there's 
your Press-Money : That Fellow handles his Bow like a 

Cow-Keeper : Draw me a Clothier's Yard. A Mouse, 

a Mouse, peace, hoa! There's my Gauntlet ; I'll prove 
it on a Giant : Bring up the brown Bills : O weU flown 

Bird; i' th' White, i' th' White. Heugh! Give the 


Edg. Sweet Marjorum. 

Lear. Pass. 

Glost. I know that Voice. 

Lear. Ha! Goneril with a white Beard! They fiat- 
ter'd me like a Dog, and told me I had white Hairs on 
my Chin, before the black ones were there ; to say ay 
and no to every Thing that I said : Ay and no too was 
no good Divinity. When the Rain came once to wet me, 
and the Winds to make me chatter ; when the Thunder 
wou'd not peace at my bidding. There I found 'em, 
there I smelt 'em out ; go too, they are not Men of their 
Words ; they told me I was a King ; 'tis a Lye, I am not 
Ague proof. 

Glost. That Voice I well remember, is't not the King's ? 

Lear. I, every Inch a King, when I do Stare 
See how the Subject quakes. 
I pardon that Man's Life, what was the Cause ? 
Adultery? Thou shalt not Die. Die for Adultery ! 
The Wren goes to't, and the small gilded FHe 

Act iv] King Lear 23J 

Engenders in my Sight : Let Copulation Thrive, 
For Gloster's Bastard Son was kinder to his Father 
Than were my Daughters got i' th' lawfull Bed. 
To't Luxury, pell mell, for I lack Souldiers. 

Glost. Not all my Sorrows past so deep have toucht 
As the sad Accents : Sight were now a Torment 

Lear. Behold that simp'ring Lady, she that starts 
At Pleasures Name, and thinks her Ear profan'd 
With the least wanton Word ; wou'd you believe it, 
The Fitcher, nor the pamper'd Steed goes to't 
With such a riotous Appetite : Down from the Waste 
they are Centaurs, though Women aU above ; but to the 
Girdle do the Gods inherit, beneath is all the Fiends; 
there's Hell, there's Darkness, the sulphurous un- 

f athom'd. — Fie ! Fie ! Pah ! ^An Ounce of Civet, good 

Apothecary, to sweeten my Imagination. ^There's- 

Money for thee. 

Glost. Let me kiss that Hand. 

Lear. Let me wipe it first ; it smeUs of Mortality. 

Glost. Speak, Sir, do you know me ? 

Lear. I remember thy Eyes well enough: Nay, do 

thy worst, blind Cupid, I'll not love. Read me this 

Challenge, mark but the penning of it. 

Glost. Were all the Letters Suns, I cou'd not see. 

Edg. I wou'd not take this from Report; wretched 
Cordelia ! 
What will thy Virtue do when thou shalt find 
This fresh Affliction added to the Tale 
Of thy unparallell'd Griefs. 

Lear. Read. 

Glost. What ! with this Case of Eyes ? 

Lear. O ho! Are you there with me? No Eyes in 
your Head, and no Money in your Purse ? Yet you see 
how this World goes. 

Glost. I see it feelingly. 

234 Ihe History of [Act iv 

Lear. What! Art mad! A Man may see how this 
World goes with no Eyes. Look with thy Ears; see 
how yon Justice rails on that simple Thief ; shake 'em 
together, and the first that Drops, be it Thieif, or Justice, 

is a Villain. Thou hast seen a Farmer's Dog bark at 

a Beggar. 

Glost. Ay, Sir. 

Lear. And the Man ran from the Curr; there thou 
might'st behold the great Image of Authority, a Dog's 
obey'd in Office. Thou Rascal, Beadle, hold up thy 
bloody Hand, why dost thou lash that Strumpet ? Thou 
Jiotly lust'st to enjoy her in that Kind for which thou 
whipst her ; do, do, the Judge that sentenc'd her has 
been before-hand with thee. 

Glost. How stiff is my vUe Sense, that yields not yet ? 

Lear. I tell thee the Usurer hangs the Couz'ner, 

through tatter'd Robes small Vices do appear ; Robes, 
and Fur-Gowns hide aU : Place Sins with Gold ; why 
there 'tis for thee, my Friend, make much of it ; it has 
the Power to seal the Accuser's Lips. Get thee glass 
Eyes, and like a scurvy Politician, seem to see the 
Things thou dost not. PuU, puU off my Boots ; hard, 
harder; so, so. 

Glost. O Matter and Impertinency mixt ? 
Reason in Madness. 

Lear. If thou wilt weep my Fortunes, take my Eyes, 
I know thee weU enough, thy Name is Gloster. 
Thou must be patient, we come crying hither 
Thou know'st, the first Time that we taste the Air 
We wail and cry, I'll preach to thee, Mark. 

Edg. Break lab'ring Heart. 

Lear. When we are bom we cry that we are come 

To this great Stage of Fools. 

Enter Two or Three Gentlemen. 

Gent. O I here he is ; lay Hand upon him. Sir : 
Your dearest Daughter sends 

Act iv] King hear 235 

Lear. No Rescue? What! A Prisoner? I am even 
the natural Fool of Fortune: Use me well, you shall 

have Ransome. Let me have Surgeons? O! I am 

cut to th' Brains. 

Gent. You shall have any Thing. 

Lear. No Seconds ? All my self ? I wUl die bravely 
Hke a smug Bridegroom, fiusht and pamper'd as a Priest's 
Whore. I am a King, my Masters, know ye that ? 

Gent. You are a Royal One, and we Obey you ? 

Lear. It were an excellent Stratagem to shoe a Troop 

of Horse with Felt, I'U put in proof. no Noise, no 

Noise. ^Now will we steal upon these Sons-in-Law, 

and then Kill, kiU, kill, kiU! \E%it Running. 

Glost. A Sight most moving in the meanest Wretch, 
Past speaking in a King. Now, good Sir, what are you ? 

Edg. A most poor Man made tame to Fortune's 
And prone to pity by experienc'd Sorrows ; give me your 

Glost. You ever gentle Gods take my Breath from me, 
And let not my iU Genius tempt me more 
To Die before you please. 

Enter Goneril's Gentleman-Usher. 

Gent. A proclaim'd Prize, O most happily met, 
That Eye-less Head of thine was first fram'd Flesh 
To raise my Fortunes ; thou old unhappy Traytor, 
The Sword is out that must destroy thee. 

Glost. Now let thy friendly Hand put Strength enough 

Gent. Wherefore bold Peasant, 
Dar'st thou support a publisht Traytor ? Hence, 
Lest I destroy thee too. Let go his Arm. 

Edg. 'Chin not let go, Zir, without 'vurther 'Casion. 

Gent. Let go. Slave, or thou Dyest. 

Edg. Good Gentlemen go your Gate, and let poor 
Volk pass; and Chu'd ha' bin' Zwagger'd out of my 

236 The History of [Act iv 

Life, it wou'd not a bin zo long as 'tis by a Vort-Night. 

Nay, an' thou com'st near th' old Man, I'st try 

whether your Costard, or my Ballow be th' harder. 

Gent. Out Dunghil. 

Edg. ChiU pick your Teeth, Zir ; come, no Matter vor 
your Voines. 

Gent. Slave, thou hast slain me ; oh, untimely Death ! 

Edg. I know thee well, a serviceable Villain, 
As duteous to the Vices of thy Mistress, 
As Lust cou'd wish. 

Glost. What! Is he dead? 

EAg. Sit you. Sir, and rest you. 
This is a Letter Carrier, and may have 
Some Papers of Intelligence, that may stand 

Our Party in good stead to know. What's here ? 

\Takes a Letter out of his Pocket ; opens, and reads. 
To Edmund Earl of Gloster. 

Let our Mutual Loves be rememhred, you have many 
Opportunities to Cut him off. If he return the 
Conqueror , then I am still a Prisoner,' and his 

gke/f -Qg^ my'^Goal ; from the loath' d Warmth of 
which deliver me, and supply the Place for your 
Labour. Goneril. 

A Plot upon her Husband's Life, 

And the Exchange my Brother! Here i' th' Sands 

I'll rake thee up, thou Messenger of Lust, 

Griev'd only that thou hadst no other Deaths-Man. 

In Time and Place convenient I'll produce 

These Letters to the Sight of th' injur'd Duke, 

As best shall serve our Purpose ; come, your Hand. 

Far off methinks I hear the beaten Drum, 

Come, Sir, I will bestow you with a Friend. {Exeunt. 

A Chamber. Lear a sleep on a Couch; Cordelia, [Physician] 
and Attendants standing by him. 
Cord. His Sleep is sound, and may have good Effect 

Act iv] King Lear 237 

To cure his jarring Senses, and repair 
This Breach of Nature. 

Phys. We have employ'd the utmost Pow'r of Art, 
And this deep Rest will perfect our Design. 

Cord. O Regan, Gonerill Inhumane Sisters, 
Had he not been your Father, these white Hairs 
Had challeng'd sure some Pity ? Was this a Face 
To be expos'd against the jarring Winds ? 
My Enemy's Dog, though he had bit me, shou'd 
Have stood that Night against my Fire. — He wakes, 
speak to him. 

Gent. Madam, do you, 'tis fittest. 

Cord. How do's my royal Lord? How fairs your 

Lear. You do me Wrong to take me out o' th' Grave. 
Ha ! Is this too a World of Cruelty ? 
I know my Privilege, think not that I wHl 
Be us'd like a wretched Mortal ? No, 
No more of that. • 

Cord. Speak to me. Sir, whom am I ? 

Lear. You are a Soul in Bliss, but I am bound 
Upon a Wheel of Fire, which my own Tears 
Do scald hke Molten Lead. 

Cord. Sir, do you know me ? 

Lear. You are a Spirit, I know ; where did you die ? 

Cord. StiU, still, far wide. 

Phys. Madam he's scarce awake; he'U soon grow 
more compos'd. 

Lear. Where have I been ? Where am I ? Fair Day- 
I am mightily abus'd, I shou'd even die with Pity 
To see another thus. I will not swear 
These are my Hands. 

Cord. O look upon me. Sir, 
And hold your Hands in Blessing over me ; nay. 
You must not kneel. 

238 The History of [Act iv 

Lear. Pray do not mock me. 
I am a very foolish fond old Man, 
Fourscore and upward ; and to deal plainly with you, 
I fear I am not in my perfect Mind. 

Cord. Nay, then farewel to Patience : Witness for me 
Ye mighty Pow'rs, I ne're complain'd 'till now ! 

Lear. Methinks I shou'd know you, and know this 
Yet I am doubtfuU, for I am mainly ignorant 
What Place this is, and aU the SkiU I have 
Remembers not these Garments ; nor do I know 

Where I did sleep last Night. Pray do not mock me. 

For, as I am a Man, I think that Lady 
To be my Child Cordelia. 

Cord. O my dear, dear Father ! 

Lear. Be your Tears wet? Yes faith; pray do not 
I know I have giv'n thee Cause, and am so humbled 
With Crosses since, that I cou'd ask 
Forgiveness of thee, were it possible 
That thou cou'dst grant it ; but I'm well assur'd 
Thou can'st not ; therefore I do stand thy Justice ; 
If thou hast Poyson for me I will drink it. 
Bless thee, and die. 

Cord. O pity. Sir, a bleeding Heart, and cease 
This kUling Language. 

Lear. Tell me. Friends, where am I ? 

Gent. In your own Kingdom, Sir. 

Lear. Do not abuse me. 

Gent. Be comforted, good Madam, for the Violence 
Of his Distemper's past ; we'll lead him in. 
Nor trouble him, 'tiU he is better settled. 
Wil't please you. Sir, walk into freer Air ? 

Lear. You must bear with me, I am Old and Foolish. 

SJ^hey lead him off. 

Cord. The Gods restore you. Heark, I hear afar 

Act v] King Lear 239- 

The beaten Drum, Old Kent's a Man of s Word. 

O for an Arm 

Like the fierce Thunderer's, when th' Earth-born Sons 

Storm'd Heav'n, to fight this injur'd Father's Battle! 

That I cou'd shift my Sex, and die me deep 

In his Opposer's Blood ! But as I may. 

With Women's Weapons, Piety and Pray'rs, 

I'll aid his Cause. You never erring Gods 

Fight on his Side, and Thunder on his Foes 
Such Tempests as his poor ag'd Head sustain'd. 
Your Image suffers when a Monarch bleeds. 
'Tis your own Cause, for that your Succors bring, 
Revenge your selves, and right an injur'd King. 

End of the Fourth Act, 

Act V. 

SCENE, A Camp. 
Enter Goneril and Attendants. 

Gon. /^UR Sister's Pow'rs already are arriv'd, 

VyAnd She herself has promis'd to prevent 
The Night with her Approach : Have you provided 
The Banquet I bespoke for her Reception 
At my Tent ? 

Att. So, please your Grace, we have. 

Gon. But thou, my Poysner, must prepare the Bowll 
That Crowns this Banquet, when our Mirth is High, 
The Trumpets sounding, and the Flutes replying. 
Then is the Time to give this fatal Draught 
To this Imperious Sister ; if then our Arms succeed, 
Edmund, more dear then Victory, is mine. 
But if Defeat, or Death it self attend me, 
'TwiU charm my Ghost to think I've left behind me. 
No happy Rival. Heark, she comes, 

[Trumpet. Exeunt., 

240 The History of [Act v 

Enter Bastard in his Tent. 

Bast. To both these Sisters have I sworn my Love, 
Each jealous of the other, as the Stung 
Are of the Adder ; neither can be held 
If both remain alive ; where shall I fix ? 
Cornwall is dead, and Regan's empty Bed 
Seems cast by Fortune for me, but already 
I have enjoy'd her, and bright Goneril 
With equal Charms brings dear Variety, 
And yet untasted Beauty : I will use 
Her Husband's Countenance for the BattaU, then 
Usurp at once his Bed and Throne. [Enter Officers: 

My trusty Scouts y'are well return'd; have ye de- 
scry' d 
The Strength and Posture of the Enemy ? 

Off. We have, and were surpriz'd to find 
The banish'd Kent return'd, and at their Head ; 
Your Brother Edgar on the Rear ; old Gloster 
.(A moving Spectacle) led through their Ranks, 
Whose pow'rfuU Tongue, and more prevailing Wrongs, 
Have so enrag'd their rustick Spirits, that with 
Th' approaching Dawn we must expect their Battle. 

Bast. You bring a welcome Hearing; each to his 
Line well your Ranks, and stand on your Award, 
To Night repose you, i'th' Morn we'll give 
The Sun a Sight that shaU be worth his rising. 

SCENE A Valley near the Camp. 
Enter Edgar and Gloster. 

Edg. Here, Sir, take you the Shadow of this Tree 
For your good Host ; pray that the Right may thrive : 
If ever I return to you again 
I'U bring you Comfort. [Exit. 

Glost. Thanks, friendly Sir ; 
The Fortune your good Cause deserves betide you. 

Act v] King Lear 241 

<, An Alarm ; after which Gloster speaks. 
The Fight grows hot ; the whole War's now at work, 
And the goar'd Battle bleeds in every Vein. 
Whilst Drums and Trumpets drown loud Slaughters 

Where's Gloster now that us'd to head the Fray, 
And scour the Ranks where deadliest Danger lay ? 
Here, Uke a Shepherd, in a lonely Shade, 
Idle, unarm'd, and listning to the Fight ; 
Yet the disabled Courser, maim'd and blind. 
When to the Stall he hears the ratling War, 
Foaming with Rage, tears up the batter'd Ground, 
And tugs for Liberty. 

No more of Shelter, thou blind Worm, but forth 
To th' open Field, the War may come this Way, 

And crush thee into Rest. Here lay thee down, 

And tear the Earth, that Work befits a Mole. 
O dark Despair! When, Edgar, wilt thou come 
To pardon, and dismiss me to the Grave ? 

[A Retreat sounded. 
Heark ! A Retreat, the King has lost, or Won. 
Re-enter Edgar, bloody. 

Edg. Away, old Man, give me your Hand, away! 
King Lear has lost ; he and his Daughter tane. 
And this, ye Gods, is all that I can save 
Of this most precious Wreck ; give me your Hand. 

Glost. No farther, Sir, a Man may rot, even here. 

Edg. What ! In ill Thoughts again ? Men must endure 
Their going hence, ev'n as their coming hither, i^^^u..^ *».*^ /•-' 

Glost. And that's true too. \Exeunt. tUt^.z.'-^ 

Flourish. Enter in Conquest, Albany, Goneril, Regan, 
Bastard. Lear, Kent, Cordelia, Prisoners. 

Alb. It is enough to have Conquer'd, Cruelty 
Shou'd ne're survive the Fight. Captain o' th'Guards, 
Treat weU your royal Prisoners 'till you have 
Our farther Orders, as you hold our Pleasure. 


242 The History of [Act v 

Gon. Heark! Sir, not as you hold our Husband's 
Pleasure. \To the Captain aside. 

But as you hold your Life, dispatch your Pris'ners. 
Our Empire can have no sure Settlement 
But in their Death, the Earth that covers them 
Binds fast our Throne. Let me hear they are dead. 

Capt. I shall obey your Orders. 

Bast. Sir, I approve it safest to pronounce 
Sentence of Death upon this wretched King, 
Whose Age has Charms in it, his Title more. 
To draw the Commons once more to his Side, 
'Twere best prevent 

Alb. Sir, by your Favour, 
I hold you but a Subject of this War, 
Not as a Brother. 

Reg. That's as we list to Grace him. 
Have you forgot that He did lead our Pow'rs ; 
Bore the Commission of our Place and Person ? 
And that Authority may well stand up. 
And call it self your Brother. 

Gon. Not so hot. 
In his own Merits he exalts himself 
More than in your Addition. 

Enter Edgar disguis'd. 

Alb. What art thou ? 

Edg. Pardon me. Sir, that I presume to stop 
A Prince and Conquerour, yet e'er you Triumph, 
Give Ear to what a Stranger can deliver 
Of what concerns you more than Triumph can. 
I do impeach your General there of Treason, 
Lord Edmund, that usurps the Name of Gloster, 
Of foulest Practice 'gainst your Life and Honour ; 
This Charge is true, and wretched though I seem, 
I can produce a Champion that will prove 
In single Combat what I do avouch : 
If Edmund dares but trust his Cause and Sword. 

Act v] King Lear 243 

Bast. What will not Edmund dare! My Lord, I beg 
The Favour that you'd instantly appoint 
The Place where I may meet this Challenger, 
Whom I will sacrifice to my wrong' d Fame ; 
Remember, Sir, that injur'd Honour's nice. 
And cannot brook delay. 

Alb. Anon, before our Tent, i' th' Army's View, 
There let the Herald cry. 

Edg. I thank your Highness in my Champion's Name, 
He'U wait your Trumpet's Call. 

Alb. Lead. {Exeunt. 

Manent Lear, Kent, Cordelia, guarded. 

Lear. O Kent, Cordelia ! 
You are the onely Pair that I e'er wrong'd. 
And the just Gods have made you Witnesses 
Of my Disgrace, the very Shame of Fortune, 
To see me chain' d and shackled at these Years ! 
Yet were you but Spectatours of my Woes, 
Not FeUow-Sufferers, aU were well ! 

Cord. This Language, Sir, adds yet to our Afflic- 

Lear. Thou, Kent, didst head the Troops that fought 
my Battel, 
Expos'd thy Life and Fortunes for a Master 
That had (as I remember) banisht thee. 

Kent. Pardon me, Sir, that once I broke your Orders ; 
Banish'd by you, I kept me here disguis'd 
To watch your Fortunes, and protect your Person ; 
You know you entertain'd a rough blunt Fellow, 
One Cajus, and you thought he did you Service. 

Lear. My trusty Cajus, I have lost him too! [Weeps. 
'Twas a rough Honesty. 

Kent. I was that Cajus, 
Disguis'd in that course Dress, to follow you. / 

Lear. My Cajus too ! Wer't thou my trusty Cajus ? i< 
Enough, enough. 

244 The History of [Act v 

Cord. Ah me, he faints ! his Blood forsakes his Cheek, 
Help, Kent. 

Lear. No, no, they shaU not see us weep. 
We'll see them rot first. — Guards, lead away to Prison ; 
Come Kent, Cordelia, come ; 
We two will sit alone, like Birds i'th' Cage, 
When thou dost ask me Blessing, I'll kneel down 
And^ask of Thee Forgiveness ; thus we'U live. 
And Pray, and Sing, and tell old Tales, and laugh 
At gilded Butter-Flies, hear Sycophants 
Talk of Court News, and we'll talk with them too. 
Who loses and who wins, who's in, who's out. 
And take upon us the Mystery of Things 
As if we were Heav'ns Spies. 

Cord. Upon such Sacrifices 
The Gods themselves throw Incense. 

Lear. Have I caught ye ? 
He that parts us must bring a Brand from Heav'n : 
Together we'll out-toil the Spight of Hell, 
And die the Wonders of the World ; away. 

\Exeuni guarded. 
Flourish. Enter before the Tents, Albany, Goneril, Regan, 

Guards and Attendants ; Goneril speaking apart to the 

Captain of the Guards entring. 

Gon. Here's Gold for thee, thou know'st our late 
Upon your Pris'ners Lives ; about it streight, and at 
Our Ev'ning Banquet let it raise our Mirth, 
To hear that they are dead. 

Capt. I shall not fail your Orders. {Exit. 

Albany, Goneril, Regan, tahe their Seats. 

Alb. Now, Gloster, trust to thy single Vertue, for thy 
All levied in my Name, have in my Name 
Took their Discharge ; now let our Trumpets speak, 
And Herald read out this. [Herald reads. 

Act v] King Lear 245 

// any Man of Quality, within the Lists of the 
Army, will maintain upon Edmund, suppos'd 
Earl of Gloster, that he is a manifold Traitor, 
let him appear by the third Sound of the Trum- 
pet ; he is bold in his Defence. Agen, agen. 

[Trumpets answers from within. 
Enter Edgar arm'd. 

Alb. Lord Edgar ! 

Bast. Ha! My Brother! 
This is the onely Combatant that I cou'd fear ? 
For in my Breast Guilt Duels on his Side, 
But, Conscience, what have I to do with thee ? 
Awe thou thy dull Legitimate Slaves, but I 
Was born a Libertine, and so I keep me. 

Edg. My Noble Prince, a Word ; e'er we engage 

Into your Highness's Hands I give this Paper, 
It wiU the Truth of my Impeachment prove. 
What ever be my Fortune in the Fight. 

Alb. We shall peruse it. 

Edg. Now Edmund, draw thy Sword, 
That if my Speech has wrong'd a noble Heart, 
Thy Arm may doe thee Justice : Here i'th' Presence 
Of this high Prince, these Queens, and this crown'd List, 
I brand thee with the spotted Name of Traytour. 
False to thy Gods, thy Father, and thy Brother, 
And what is more, thy Friend, false to this Prince : 
If then thou shar'st a Spark of Gloster' s Virtue, 
Acquit thy self ; or if thou shar'st his Courage, 
Meet this Defiance bravely. 

Bast. And dares Edgar, 
The beaten routed Edgar, brave his Conquerour ? 
From all thy Troops and Thee I forc't the Field, 
Thou hast lost the gen'ral Stake, and art thou now 
Come with thy petty single Stock to play 
This after Game ? 

Edg. Half-blooded Man, 

246 The History of [Act v 

Thy Father's Sin first, then his Punishment ; 
The dark and vicious Place where he begot thee 
Cost him his Eyes ; from thy Ucentious Mother 
Thou draw'st thy Villany ; but for thy Part, 
Of Gloster's Blood, I hold thee worth my Sword. 

Bast. Thou bear'st thee on thy Mother's Piety, 
Which I despise ; thy Mother being chaste 
Thou art assur'd thou art but Gloster's Son ; 
But mine, disdaining Constancy, leaves me 
To hope that I am sprung from nobler Blood, 
And possibly a King might be my Sire : 
But be my Birth's uncertain Chance as 'twiU, 
Who 'twas that had the Hit to Father me 
I know not ; 'tis enough that I am I : 

Of this one Thing I'm certain, that I have 

A daring Soul, and so have at thy Heart. 

Sound Trumpets. [Fight, Bastard falls. 

Gon. and Reg. Save him, save him. 

Gon. This was Practice, Gloster, 
Thou won'st the Field, and was not bound to fight 
A vanquisht Enemy. Thou art not conquer'd. 
But couz'ned and betray'd. 

Alb. Shut your Mouth, Lady, 

Or with this Paper I shall stop it. Hold, Madam, 

Thou worse than any Name, read thy own Evil ; 
No Tearing, Lady, I perceive you know it. 

Gon. Say, if I do, who shall arraign me for't ? 
The Laws are mine, not thine. 

Alb. Most monst'rous ! Ha! Thou know'st it too ? 

Bast. Ask me not what I know, 
I have not Breath to answer idle Questions. 

Alb. I am resolv'd ^your Right, brave Sir, has 

conquer'd. [To Edgar. 

Along with me, I must consult your Father. 

[Exit Albany and Edgar. 

Reg. Help every Hand to save a noble Life ; 

Act v] King Lear 247 

My half o'th' Kingdom for a Man of SkiU 
To stop this precious Stream. 

Bast. Away ye Empericks, 
Torment me not with your vain Offices ; 
The Sword has pierc'd too far ; Legitimacy 
At last has got it. 

Reg. The Pride of Nature dies. 

Gon. Away, the Minutes are too precious. 
Disturb us not with thy impertinent Sorrow. 

Reg. Art thou my Rival then protest ? 

Gon. Why, was our Love a Secret ? Cou'd there 
Beauty like mine, and Gallantry like his. 
And not a mutual Love ? Just Nature then 
Had err'd. Behold that Copy of Perfection, 
That Youth whose Story will have no foul Page, 
But where it says he stoopt to Regan's Arms : 
Which yet was but Compliance, not Affection ; 
A Charity to begging, ruin'd Beauty ! 

Reg. Who begg'd when Goneril writ that ? Expose it. 

[Throws her a Letter. 
And let it be your Army's Mirth, as 'twas 
This charming Youth's and mine, when in the Bow'r 
He breath' d the warmest Ecstasies of Love ; 
Then panting on my Breast, cry'd, matchless Regan I 
That Goneril and thou shou'd e'er be kin ! 

Gon. Die, Circe, for thy Charms are at an End, 
Expire before my Face, and let me see 
How well that boasted Beauty will become 
Congealing Blood, and Death's convulsive Pangs : 
Die and be husht, for at my Tent last Night 
Thou drank'st thy Bane, amidst thy rev'ling Bowls : 
Ha! Dost thou Smile ? Is then thy Death thy Sport ? 
Or has the trusty Potion made thee mad ? 

Reg. Thou com'st as short of me in thy Revenge, 
As in my Gloster's Love ; my Jealousie 

248 The History of [Act v 

Inspir'd me to prevent thy feeble Malice, 
And Poison thee at thy own Banquet. 

Gon. Ha! 

Bast. No more, my Queen's, of this untimely Strife, 
You both deserv'd my Love, and both possest it. 
Come, Soldiers, bear me in ; and let 
Your Royal Presence grace my last Minutes ; 
Now, Edgar, thy proud Conquest I forgive ; 
Who wou'd not choose, like me, to yield his Breath 
T' have Rival Queens contend for him in Death ? 

SCENE, A Prison. 
Lear asleep, with his Head on Cordelia's Lap. 

Cord. What Toils, thou wretched King, hast thou en- 
To make thee draw, in Chains, a Sleep so sound ? 
Thy better Angel charm thy ravisht Mind 
With fancy'd Freedom ; Peace is us'd to lodge 
On Cottage Straw. Thou hast the Beggar's Bed, 
Therefore shoud'st have the Beggar's careless Thought. 
And now, my Edgar, I remember thee. 
What Fate has seiz'd thee in this general Wreck 
I know not, but I know thou must be wretched. 
Because Cordelia holds thee dear. 

Gods! A sudden Gloom o'er- whelms me, and the 

Of Death o'er-spreads the Place. — Ha ! Who are these ? 
Enter Captain and Officers with Cords. 
Capt. Now, Sirs, dispatch, already you are paid 
In Part, the Best of your Reward's to come. 
Lear. Charge, charge upon their Flank, their last Wing 
Push, push the Battel, and the Day's our own. 
Their Ranks are broke, down with Albany. 
Who holds my Hands ? O thou deceiving Sleep, 

1 was this very Minute on the Chace ; 

Act v] King Lear 249 

And now a Prisoner here. What mean the Slaves ? 

You will not murder me ? 

Cord. Help, Earth and Heaven! 
For your Soul's Sake, dear Sirs, and for the Gods. 

Offi. No Tears, good Lady, no pleading against Gold 
and Preferment. 
Come, Sirs, make ready your Cords. 

Cord. You, Sir, I'll seize, 
You have a humane Form, and if no Prayer's 
Can touch your Soul to spare a poor King's Life, 
If there be any Thing that you hold dear, 
By that I beg you to dispatch me first. 

Capt. Comply with her Request ; dispatch her first. 

Lear. Off HeU-Hounds, by the Gods I charge you 
spare her ; 
'Tis my Cordelia, my true pious Daughter ; 
No pity? Nay, then take an old Man's Vengeance. 

Snatches a Partizan, and strikes down Two of them ; 

the Rest quit Cordelia, and turn upon him. 

Enter Edgar and Albany. 

Edg. Death! Hell! Ye Vultures, hold your impious 
Or take a speedier Death than you wou'd give. 

Capt. By whose Command ? 

Edg. Behold the Duke, your Lord. 

Alb. Guards, seize those Instruments of Cruelty. 

Cord. My Edgar, O ! 

Edg. My dear Cordelia ! Lucky was the Minute 
Of our Approach, the Gods have weigh'd our Suff' rings ; 
W are past the Fire, and now must shine to Ages. 

Gent. Look here, my Lord, see where the generous 
Has slain two of 'em. 

Lear. Did I not. Fellow ? 
I've seen the Day, with my good biting Faulchion 
I cou'd have made 'em skip : I am Old now. 

250 The History of [Act v 

And these vile Crosses spoil me ; Out of Breath. 
Fie, oh ! quite out of Breath, and spent. 

Alh. Bring in old Kent; and, Edgar, guide you 
Your Father, whom you said was near, [Exit Edgar. 
He may be an Ear-Witness as the least 
Of our Proceedings. [Kent hf ought in here. 

Lear. Who are you ? 
My Eyes are none o'th Best, I'll teU you streight ; 
Oh Albany \ Well, Sir, we are your Captives, 
And you are come to see Death pass upon us. 

Why this Delay. Or is't your Highness's Pleasure 

To give us first the Torture ? Say ye so ? 
Why here's old Kent and I, as tough a Pair 

As e'er bore Tyrants Stroke. But my Cordelia, 

My poor Cordelia here, O pity. 

Alb. Take off their Chains. Thou injur'd Majesty, 

The Wheel of Fortune now has made her Circle, 
And Blessings yet stand 'twixt thy Grave and thee. 

Lear. Com'st thou inhumane Lord, to sooth us back 
To a Fool's Paradice of Hope, to make 
Our Doom more wretched ? Go to, we are too well 
Acquainted with Misfortune to be guU'd 
With Lying Hope ; no, we will hope no more. 

Alb. I have a Tale, t'unfold so full of Wonder 
As cannot meet an easy Faith ; 
But by that Royal injur'd Head 'tis true. 

Kent. What wou'd your Highness ? 

Alb. Know, the noble Edgar 
Impeacht Lord Edmund, since the Fight, of Treason, 
And dar'd him for the Proof to single Combat, 
In which the Gods confirm'd his Charge by Conquest; 
I left ev'n now the Tray tor wounded Mortally! 

Lear. And whether tends this Story ? 

Alb. 'Ere they fought 
Lord Edgar gave into my Hands this Paper, 

Act v] King Lear 251 

A blacker Scrowl of Treason, and of Lust, 
Than can be found in the Records of Hell ; 
There, sacred Sir, behold the Character 
Of Goneril, the worst of Daughters, but 
More vicious Wife. 

Cord. Cou'd there be yet Addition to their Guilt ? 
What will not they that wrong a Father do ? 

Alb. Since then my Injuries, Lear, fall in with thine, 
I have resolv'd the same Redress for both. 

Kent. What says my Lord ? 

Cord. Speak, for methought I he_ard- 
The charming Voic e-oi a descending: God. 

Alb. The Troops, by Edmund rais'd, I have disbanded ; 
Those that remain are under my Command. 
What Comfort may be brought to chear your Age, 
And heal your savage Wrongs, shall be apply'd. 
For to your Majesty we do resign 
Your Kingdom, save what Part your self conferr'd 
On us in Marriage. 

Kent. Hear you that, my Liege ? 

Cord. T hgn t here are Gods^ and Vertue is their Care. 

Lear. Is't Possible ? 
Let the Spheres stop their Course, the Sun make Hault, 
The Winds be husht, the Seas and Fountains rest ; 
All Nature pause, and listen to the Change. 
Where is my Kent, my Cajus .^ 

Kent. Here, my Liege. 

Lear. Why I have News that will recal thy Youth ; 
Ha ! Didst thou hear't, or did th' inspiring Gods 
Whisper to me alone ? Old Lear shall be 
A King again. 

Kent. The Prince,'that Hke a God has Pow'r, has said it. 

Lear. Cordelia then shaU be a Queen, mark that : 
Cordelia shall be a Queen ; Winds catch the Sound, 
And bear it on your rosie Wings to Heav'n. 
Cordelia is a Queen. 

252 The History of [Act v 

Re-enter Edgar with Gloster. 

Alb. Look, Sir, where pious Edgar comes, 
Leading his Eye-less Father. O my Liege ! 
His wond'rous Story will deserve your Leisure ; 
What he has done and suffer'd for your Sake, 
What for the fair Cordelia's. 

Glost. Where's my Liege ? Conduct me to his Knees, 
to hail 
His second Birth of Empire ; my dear Edgar 
Has, with himself, reveal'd the King's blest Restaura- 

Lear. My poor dark Gloster. 

Glost. O let me kiss that once more sceptred Hand! 

Lear. Hold, thou mistak'st the Majesty, kneel here; 
Cordelia has our Pow'r, Cordelia's Queen. 
Speak, is not that the noble Suff'ring Edgar ? 

Glost. My pious Son, more dear than my lost Eyes. 

Lear. I wrong'd him too, but here's the fair Amends. 

Edg. Your Leave, my Liege, for an unwelcome Mes- 
Edmund (but that's a Trifle) is expir'd ; 
What more will touch you, your imperious Daughters, 
Goneril and haughty Regan, both are dead, 
Each by the other poison' d at a Banquet ; 
This, Dying, they contest. 

Cord. O fatal Period of ill govern'd Life ! 

Lear. I ngratef uJIas_they were, my Heart feels yet 
A Pang of Nature for their wretched Fall; — —" 
^V^J^' Edgar, I d efer thy J oYg. t oo long : 
Thou serv'ds t d istrest Cord elia ; tal^Jh^rXrown'd ; 
T h' imperia l^ Grace f resh blo oming. on her,. Brow ; 
l^SiY, ^Qlos tef, thouTTiast here 'aFather's Riglit, 
Thy helping Hand t'heap ,Blessings^n their,.Heads. 

Kent. Old Kent throws in his hearty^ Wj^bp'^ i^nn 

Edg. The Gods and you too largely Recompence 
What I have done ; the Gift strikes Merit dumb. 

Act v] King Lear 253 

Cofd. Nor do I blush to own my Self o'er-paid 
For all my Suff'rings past. 

Glost. Now, gentle Gods, give Gloster his Discharge. 

Lear. No, Gloster, thou hast Business yet for Life ; 
Thou, Kent, and I, retir'd to some cool CeU 
WiU gently pass our short Reserves of Time 
In calm Reflections on our Fortunes past, 
Cheer'd with Relation of the prosperous Reign 
Of this celestial Pair ; thus our Remains 
Shall in, an ev eh "Course'^f°Though j:^ be past. 
Enjoy the present Hour, nor fear the last. 

Edg. Our drooping Country now erects her Head, 
Peace spreads her balmy Wings, and Plenty blooms. 
Divine Cordelia, aU the Gods can witness 
How much thy Love to Empire I prefer ! 
Thy bright Example shall convince the World 
(Wliatever Storms of Fortune are decreed) 
That Truth and Vertue shall at last succeed. 

\_Exeunt Omnes. 

Epilogue, spoken by Mrs. Barry. 

TNCONSTANCY, the reigning Sin o'th' Age, 
■I Will scarce endure true Lovers on the Stage, 
You hardly ev'n in Plays with such dispense. 
And Poets kill 'em in their own Defence. 
Yet One hold Proof I was resolv'd to give, 
That I cou'd three Hours Constancy Out-live. 
You fear, perhaps, whilst on the Stage w'are made 
Such Saints, we shall indeed take up the Trade ; 
Sometimes we threaten, — hut our Vertue may 
For Truth I fear with your Pit-Valour weigh : 
For {not to flatter either) I much doubt 
When we are off the Stage, and you are out, \ 
We are not quite so Coy, nor you so Stout. 

We talk of Nunneries, hut to he sincere 

Whoever lives to see us Cloyster'd there. 
May hope to meet our Critiques at Tangier. 
For Shame give over this inglorious Trade 
Of worrying Poets, and go maule th' Alcade. 
Well — since y'are all for blust'ring in the Pit,] 
The Play's Reviver humhly do's admit I 

Your ahs'lute Pow'r to damn his Part of it. | 
But still so many Master-Touches shine 
Of that vast Hand that first laid this Design, 
That in great Shakespear's Right, He's hold to say,\ 
If you like nothing you have seen to Day, fe^* I 
The Play your Judgment damns, not you the Play, j 





P. 3, an imposition. A task imposed on us. 

P. 3, Sense. 4to, 1670, has Scene. 

P. 3, his Sea-Voyage. The Sea-Voyage, acted at the Globe, was 
licensed by Sir Henry Herbert, 22 June, 1622. It was first 
printed in the foHo of 1647. After the Restoration it was revived 
25 September, 1667, at the Theatre Royal, when Mrs. Knepp 
acted Aminta. It seems to have been frequently played at this 
time as a counter-attraction to The Tempest at the rival theatre. 

In July-August, 1685, there was produced at the Theatre 
Royal, A Commonwealth of Women, an alteration of Fletcher's 
play by Thomas D'Urfey. This proved very successful, and was 
seen at intervals for more than half a century. At Drury Lane, 
21 April, 1746, MackHn, Peg Woffington, and Kitty Clive 
appeared in D'Urfey's romantic drama. 

P. 4, his Goblins. The Goblins, acted at the Blackfriars, was 
printed 8vo, 1646. It was revived at the Theatre Royal, 24 
January, 1667. " The Goblins are Tamoren and his friends, who, 
having been defeated in a battle, retreat to a wood, turn thieves, 
and disguise themselves as Devils " (Genest). The character of 
RegineUa (not Regmella as Dryden calls her) has considerable 
charm, but the course of action of the play on the whole is 
utterly bewildering and confused. 

P. 9, A hoaming Sea. Hoaming=very rough. Mr. Thom- 
Drury has supplied me with the following quotation for this 
rare word : 

" When a strong sudden Flow and Hoaming Seas 
Our trembling Fleet with uncouth Furies seize." 
The First Book of Virgil's Mneis, " Made English " by Luke 
MUboume, 4to, 1688. " Hoaming " also occurs in Echard's 
translation of the Rudens (1694) : " Now 'tis such a hoaming 
Sea, we've little hopes o' Sport." 


256 'The Tempest 

It has been stated in foolish ignorance that hoaming is an 
error for " combing in the form of coaming, or else for foaming " ! 

P. 9, Scud. The light feathery portions of cloud blown off the 
main clouds are technically known as scud. The sentence is 

P. 9, Yaw, yaw. A corruption of yare, yare= eager; ready; 
prepared ; from A.-S. gearo. Cf . Measure for Measure, IV, 2 : 
" You shaU find me yare." Ray gives it as a Suffolk word, and 
the " hear, hear " of Lowestoft boatmen of to-day is probably 
a disguised " yare, yare." 

P. 10, reef both Top-sails. This is to reduce the area of the 
sail by taking a sort of tuck in them (hke the tuck in a shirt 
sleeve) by means of reef points. 

P. 10, Capstorm. A rare form of capstan. N.E.D. quotes this 

P. 10, seere-Capstorm. The stem or aftermost capstan. The 
order directs that more men should be put on to work it round 
and round. It may be noted that Fumess, in his Variorum 
Tempest (1892), when citing this passage can give no explanation 
of Seere-Gapstorm and, superficially relying upon some idle 
information, is content to say : " There is no such thing as a 
' Seere-Capstorm ' and there has never been such a thing " ! 
Moreover, in his Preface (ix) he has : " Shakespeare's seaman- 
ship ... is beyond criticism. . . . Turn to Dryden, where, amidst 
a wild and incoherent mass of nautical nonsense, orders are 
issued which, if obeyed, would drive the ship straight to destruc- 
tion on the rocks." This is simply untrue. The fact is Furness 
has not troubled to inquire into the technical points, and in his 
ignorance blunders into the nonsense of which he impudently 
accuses Dryden. 

P. 10, Nippers. " A piece of braided cordage used to prevent 
a cable from sHpping." N.E.D. cites this passage. 

P. II, Viall. The first issue of 1670 and T. Johnson's edition, 
Hague 1710, here misprint " Vail." This error was corrected in 
the second issue of 1670. Viall or Vial-block=" a large single- 
sheaved block through which the messenger passed when the 
anchor was weighed by the fore or jeer capstan" (Smyth, 
Sailor's Word-book, 1867). N.E.D. cites this passage. 

P.. II, « peek. " The anchor is apeek when the cable has been 

Notes 257 

sufficiently hove in to bring the ship over it " (Admiral Smyth, 
Sailor's Word-book, 1867). 

P. II, Cut the Anchor. A misprint for " Cat the Anchor." 
P. II, Haul Catt. " Cat is . . . a . . . strong tackle, or comphca- 
tion of puUies, to hook and draw the anchor ... up to the cat 
head" (Falconer, Diet. Marine, 1789). 

P. II, Haxd Aft Misen-sheat. The sheet is the rope at the 
bottom comer of a sail to haul it round in a different direction. 
P. II, A Mackrel-Gale. A strong breeze such as mackerel are 
caught in. Cf. Dryden, The Hind and the Panther, III, 456 : 
" The wind was fair, but blew a mackrel gale." 
P. 12, Over-haul your for e-boling. A " fore bowline " is a rope 
on a sail, and to " over haul " it you let it go loose and slack on 
the saU. 

P. 12, Brace off the Fore-yard. To brace off the fore-yard the 
fore brace (the rope at each end of the fore-yard) is slackened 
to let the yard go round more to the other side, so that when 
eased the yard would swing rovmd to catch the wind on whichever 
side it was most convenient. 

P. 13, Luffe. When a ship is sailing sideways in a slanting 
direction, the wind being in the wrong quarter, and it is needful 
to use the wind as much as possible, the ship goes to one side 
and is in more or less danger. When getting too much over it is 
necessary to luff, that is the ship must be brought round with 
the rudder to catch the wind full behind her, to drive her along 
evenly although she will not be going in the exact direction 

P. 22, Abhor' d Slave ! It may be noticed that in the First 
FoUo Shakespeare, 1623, this speech, which Dryden assigns to 
Prospero, is given (improperly as I am convinced) to Miranda. 
Theobald weU says : " I am persuaded the author never design'd 
this speech for Miranda," and Capell supports him. Several 
modem editors justly follow Theobald. 
P. 22, red Botch. An inflamed ulcer. 

P. 27, trills. To triU is to flow in a slender stream, but more 
constantly and continuously than to trickle. N.E.D. cites this 

P. 27, peid. Pecked. This rare word, which is omitted by 
N.E.D., is found in some compound dialect forms. Wood pie 


258 The Tempest 

(Somerset) = the green woodpecker. Wood pie (Staffordshire, 
Hants) = woodpecker. Shadwell's version of The Tempest has 
" peck'd " in this passage. 

P. 30, Salvages. This obsolete form of savage is found in 
Gower, and persisted for several centuries. Thus in Tate and 
Brady's version (1696) of the Psalms, VII, 2, we have : 
" Lest, Hke a salvage Lion he 
My helpless Soul devour." 

P. 32, Old Simon the King. Simon Wadloe, landlord of the 
Old Devil Tavern, Temple Bar, which was frequented and made 
famous by Ben Jonson, was the original of this popular old 
song. Old Simon the King was the favourite air of Squire Western 
in Tom Jones (Book IV, Chapter 5). 

P. 49, Forth-rights. A forth-right is a straight path or direct 

P. 50, eight fat Spirits. In The Rehearsal, produced at the 
Theatre Royal, 7 December, 1671, Buckingham has a jest on 
these Spirits, when Bayes (Actus III, sc^na 5) cries to his 
soldiers : " Udzookers, you dance worse than the Angels in 
Harry the Eight, or the fat Spirits in The Tempest, I gad." 

P. 51, going to the door. This is one of the four permanent 
doors of the Restoration theatre, which stood (each with its 
balcony above) two and two, upper and lower, on either side of 
the stage. 

P. 51, Bosen's Whistle. " A silver whistle, suspended from the 
neck by a lanyard, is the modem boatswain's badge of office, 
and it is famiharly termed his call " (Anon., Shakespeare a 
Seaman. S. James Magazine, July, 1862). 

P. 52, Plashes. Puddles or marshy pools ; standing water. 

P. 53, she would be loving. This is the scene referred to by 
Congreve in The Way of the World (produced at Lincoln's Inn 
Fields, March, 1700), Act I, when FainaU says of Sir Wilful: 
" When he's drunk he's as loving as the Monster in The Tempest, 
and much after the same manner." Sycorax (not Caliban) is the 
Monster to whom allusion is made. 

P. 55, natural. A loony; a half-witted fool. Cf. Bishop 
Beveridge's Works (2nd edition, foho, 1729) Sermon CXLV 
" Of Prayer " (c. 1680), vol. II, p. 350: " We are still mere 
naturals, no better than fools and madmen." 

Notes 259 

P. 77, skink about. Serve drink round; pour out liquor. 
N.E.D. cites this passage. Gf. Shirley's The Lady of Pleasure, 
licensed 15 October, 1635 ; 4to, 1637 > IV, 2 : " A drawer is my 
Ganymede, he shall skink brisk nectar to us." 

P. 77, Hanse in Kelder. Literally Jack-in-the-Cellar, i.e., the 
unborn babe in the womb. Cf. Dryden's Amhoyna (1673), IV, i, 
where Harman senior remarks at Towerson and Ysabinda's 
wedding : " You Englishmen . . . cannot stay for Ceremonies ; 
a good honest Dutchman would have been plying the Glass all 
this while, and drunk to the hopes of Hans in Kelder till ' twas 
Bedtime.' " 

P. 78. [Exit CaJiban. I have supphed this exit, and also 
Caliban's exit at " teU me how it sounds." Both these are 
immarked in the former editions, 1670, 1700, and 1710. 

F. y8, Brindis. ltalia.n, brindisi and brindesi ; " a drinking a 
health to one " (Florio). N.E.D. does not notice this rare word, 
but includes another form, " Brendice," which Dry den has used 
in his tragedy Amboyna : or, The Cruelties of the Dutch to the 
English Merchants (1673), I, i : " I go to fill a Brendice to my 
Noble Captain's Health." 

P. 79, up se Dutch. Up se=Op zijn, in the fashion or manner of. 
Cf. The Alchemist, IV, 6 : 

" I doe not like the dulnesse of your eye : 
It hath a heavy cast, 'tis upsee Dutch." 

P. 81, Pigs-nye. Pet ; darling. The word is from baby talk. 
Cf. Massinger's The Picture (Hcensed 8 June, 1629), 4to, 1630, 
II, I : 

" If thou art, 
As I beUeve, the pigzney of his heart." 

P. 92, Moly. A fabulous herb of magic power, having a black 
root and white blossom, and known by this name among the 
gods, which was given by Hermes to Ulysses, as a counter-charm 
to the enchantments of Circe {Odyssey, X, 302-344). Cf. Comus 

(1634) : 

" And yet more med'cinal is it then that Moly 

That Hermes once to wise Ulysses gave." 

P. 93, vulnerary. HeaUng ; curative. 

P. 95, Hippolito's Sword. There is an error here. Miranda 

should have brought Ferdinand's sword. Ariel had said : 

26o The Tempest 

" Anoint the Sword which pierc'd him with this Weapon-Salve, 
And wrap it close from Air tiU I have time 
To visit him again." 

Weapon-salve was supposed to cure a wounded person by being 
apphed to the sword by which the hurt had been inflicted. It 
was first discovered by Paracelsus. Cf. Davenant's The Unfor- 
tunate Lovers, 4to, 1649, II, i : 

" Our medicine we apply. 
Like the weapon-salve, not to ourselves bixt him 
Who was the sword that made the wound." 
Also Mrs. Behn's The Young King, 4to, 1683, V, 5 : 

" That Bahn it was, that Uke the Weapon-salve 

Heals at a Distance ." 

P. 102, Saraband. A slow and stately Spanish dance. 
P. 103, The Rhyming Monsieur and the Spanish Plot. By the 
winter of 1667 the vogue of the heroic drama written in couplets 
was already very great, and in spite of parodies and criticism 
rhyme long continued to hold its own on the stage. Howard 
and Dryden's The Indian Queen, produced at the Theatre Royal 
in January 1663-4, ^-ii^ Dryden's sequel The Indian Emperor, 
produced at the same house in the spring of 1665, both had an 
unprecedented success. In the Prologue to Aureng-Zebe (Theatre 
Royal, 1675), Dryden confesses that he 

" Grows weary of his long-lived Mistris Rh5mie." 
None the less Aureng-Zebe drew thronging audiences, as also 
did Crowne's The Destruction of Jerusalem, a rhyming tragedy in 
two parts, produced at the Theatre Royal in the spring of 1677. 
In the PrologTie to Secret Love (Theatre Royal, 2 March, 1667), 
Dryden insists that he has observed in this play : 

" The Unities of Action, Place, and Time; 

The Scenes imbroken ; and a mingled chime 

Of Johnsons Humour with Corneilles rhjmie." 
Spanish influence had been very strong in the English drama 
before the closing of the theatres in 1642. Fletcher in particular 
is indebted to Spanish Uterature. But immediately after the 
Restoration, and for at least half a century following, the 
Spanish playwrights were even more largely drawn upon by 
Enghsh authors. In some cases, it is true, Spanish comedies 
filtered into England by way of France. But Charles II, himself 

Notes 261 

suggested Los Empeiios de Sets Horns to Sir Samuel Tuke as 
" an excellent design " for an English play, and he also handed 
Moreto's No puede ser to Crowne. Tuke's The Adventures of 
Five Hours, produced at the Duke's House, 8 January, 1663, 
won an instant triumph, " and the house, by its frequent 
plaudits, did show their sufficient approbation." " It took 
successively 13 days together, no other Play intervening," 
and was constantly in the bills. 

In the original Prologue to The Wild Gallant, as produced at 
the Vere Street Theatre, 5 February, 1662-3, Dryden introduces 
two Astrologers to foretell the fate of the new play, and after 
some prognostication the second Astrologer says : 

" But yet the greatest Mischief does remain. 

The twelfth Apartment bears the Lord of Spain; 

Whence I conclude, it is your Author's Lot, 

To be indanger'd by a Spanish plot." 
The reference is probably to the success of Tuke's The Adventures 
of Five Hours at the rival house. It may be that in spite of his 
assertion later in the Prologue, " This Play is Enghsh, and the 
growth your own," Dryden drew something for The Wild 
Gallant from the Spanish theatre. 


P. 105, Hie totus volo. Martial. XI, 15, 3. 

P. 107, Mr. Hains and Mrs. Mackarel. Joseph Haines, the 
famous low comedian and incomparable dancer, is mentioned 
by Pepys, 7 March, 1667-8, as having then lately joined the 
Theatre Royal. He was, says Aston, " more remarkable for the 
witty, tho' wicked. Pranks he play'd, and for his Prologues and 
Epilogues, than for Acting." He died in 1701. 

Betty Mackarel was a notorious bona-roba of the day. She 
began Ufe as an orange-wench in the King's house. There is a 
reference to Betty Mackarel in the EpilogTie to Duffett's farce. 
The Empress of Morocco, produced at the King's House in the 
spring of 1674, when Heccate says: " Where's Mack'rel back 
and JUting-Sue}" There is a pun here as mackerel-back is 
obsolescent slang for " long-backed." Jilting Sue is Sue Flavel, 

262 The Mock-Tempest 

a well-known prostitute of the day. Mr. G. Thorn-Drury has 
further furnished me with the following allusions to Mrs. 
Mackarel : Philips' Don Quixote, 1687, p. 184 : " Camilla . . . 
could not but wonder to hear so yoimg a Questrel as she discourse 
with all the Experience of an Orange-Moll, or a Betty-Mackarel." 
Ibid., p. 412 : " Teresa's a Woman of extraordinary Parts, and 
were it not that she's a little Jealous, I would not change her 
for the Gyantess Betty-Makarela, who as my Master says, was 
one of the most dihgent Women of her Time." Also Poems on 
Affairs of State, vol. Ill (1704), " To Mr. Julian," p. 143: 
" May Betty Mackrel cease to be a Whore, 
And Villain Frank kiss Mazarin no more." 
One may parallel the indecent jest about the Orange with a 
similar passage in The Country Wife, III, 2. 

P. 108, rie still he right. Gf.The Duke of Buckingham's 
alteration of The Chances, 4to, 1682, IV, 2 : " What 's here, 
musick and women ? would I had one of em. [One of 'em looks 
out of the window']. That's a whore ; I know her by her smile. . . . 
{Another looks out.] Ah rogue! she's right too, I'm sure on't." 

P. 109. Tom Thimble. Tom Thimble is a comic character in 
The Rehearsal, produced at the Theatre Royal, 7 December, 
1 671. 

P. 109, Bacon's Brazen-head. The old legend of Friar Bacon, 
who made an enchanted head of brass which was to speak 
thrice. The Friar, however, was overcome with sleep and Miles, 
his servant, failed to awake him. Meanwhile the head at intervals 
uttered these cryptic words : " Time is ; Time was ; Time is past." 
With the last sentence it feU to pieces. Story teUs that other 
famous occultists. Pope Silvester II, Robert Grosseteste, and 
Albertus Magnus, made similar heads of brass that prophesied. 

P. Ill, A great noyse heard of beating Doors. The Mock- 
Tempest, which on the half-title is called The New Tempest, 
opens with a formidable attack by the mobile upon a brothel. 
On Shrove Tuesday in each year, as also during Eastertide, it 
was customary for the apprentices of the metropoUs to avail 
themselves of their hoUdays by assembhng in large numbers and 
making organized assaults upon notorious houses of iU fame, 
which they sacked and even demoUshed. In Middleton's Inner 
Temple Masque (4to, 1619), we have: 

Notes 263 

" Stand forth. Shrove Tuesday, one a' the silenc'st bricklayers; 
'Tis in your charge to pull down bawdy-houses." 
And in Marmion's Holland's Leaguer, acted at Salisbury Court, 
December, 1631, Act IV, 3, which scene is the exterior of the 
Leaguer : 

" Good sir, let's think on some revenge! call up 
The gentlemen 'prentices and make a Shrove Tuesday." 
Holland's Leaguer was a celebrated brothel, which stood where 
is now HoUand Street, Blackfriars. The fourth act of the play 
passes chiefly before this house, which is sometimes called a 
castle or fort. The first scene of The Mock-Tempest may be 
compared with Marmion. 

Pepys, 24 March (Easter Tuesday), 1667-8, gives a long 
account of " the tumult at the other end of the town, about 
Moore-fields, among the 'prentices, taking the liberty of these 
holydays to puU down bawdy-houses." There was a dangerous 
riot and the mifitary had to be called out under the command 
of Lord Craven. MTien several of the 'prentices were imprisoned 
in the ClerkenweU Bridewell " the rest did come and break open 
the prison and release them," giving out that they were for 
p ullin g down the bawdy-houses " which is one of the greatest 
grievances of the nation." When this was reported to Charles he 
said : " Why, why do they go to them, then ?" Which certainly 
seems an extremely pertinent query, although Pepys thought it 
" a very poor, cold, insipid, answer." The following morning 
Pepys found the Duke of York and all with him " full of the 
talk of the 'prentices, who are not yet [put] down, though the 
guards and the mihtia of the town have been in armes all this 
night and the night before. . . . Some blood hath been spilt, 
but a great many houses pulled down ; and, among others, the 
Duke of York was mighty merry at that of Damaris Page's, the 
great bawd of the seamen ; . . . it was said how these idle fellows 
have had the confidence to say that they did iU in contenting 
themselves in pulling down the Httle bawdy-houses, and did 
not go and puU down the great bawdy-house at White HaU." 
Eight of the ringleaders in these riots were captured and con- 
demned to death. On 9 May, four were drawn, hanged, and quar- 
tered at Tyburn, two of their heads being fixed upon London 
Bridge {The London Gazette, No. 259). See also " The Tryals 

264 The Mock-Tempest 

of such persons as luider the notion of London Apprentices were 
tumultuously assembled in Moore Fields, under colour of 
puDing down bawdy-houses," 4to, 1668. A number of lampoons 
appeared, and Evelyn, 2 April, remarks: "Amongst other 
hbertine Ubels there was one now printed, and thrown about, a 
bold petition of the poore whores to Lady Castehnaine," and 
Pepys, four days later, writes : " I do hear that my Lady 
Gastehnaine is horribly vexed at the late hbell, the petition of 
the poor whores about the town, whose houses were pulled down 
the other day. I have got one of them, but it is not very witty, 
but devilish severe against her and the King; and I wonder 
how it durst be printed and spread abroad." This pasquil is 
entitled: "The Poor- Whores Petition to the Most Splendid, 
Illustrious, Serene, and Eminent Lady of Pleasure, the Countess 
of Castlemayne, etc. The Humble Petition of the Undone Company 
of poore distressed Whores, Bawds, Pimps, and Panders, etc." 
It is " Signed by Us Madam Cresswell and Damaris Page, in 
behalf of our Sisters and FeUow-Sufferers (in this day of our 
Calamity) . . . this present 25th day of March, 1668." A very few 
days after appeared " The Gracious ANSWER of the most 
Illustrious Lady of Pleasure, the Countess of Castlem. . . To 
the Poor- Whores Petition." This commences : " Right Trusty 
and WeU-beloved Madam Cresswell and Damaris Page with the 
rest of the suffering Sisterhood . . ." and concludes " CASTLEM. 
. . . Given at our Closset in King street, Westminster, Die 
Veneris, April 24 1668." These two remarkable documents 
may be seen in full in Steinman's Memoir of Barbara, Duchess 
of Cleveland, 1871, pp. loo-iix. 

P. 112, flunder mouth' d. Flounder-mouth'd : having a large 
gaping mouth Hke a flounder. The phrase is not uncommon. 
Cf. Cowley, The Cutter of Colman Street (1663), IV, 6 : " She . . . 
rails at me like a Flotmder-mouth'd Fish-woman." 

P. 112, Sweating Tub. A patient suffering from the lues 
venerea was disciphned by long and severe sweating in a heated 
tub, which, combined with strict abstinence, was formerly 
considered an excellent remedy for the disease. Cf . Measure for 
Measure, III, 2 : " Troth, sir, she has eaten up all her beef, and 
she is herself in the tub." Also Timon of Athens, IV, 3, 83-87. 

P. 113, Whiffler. Minsheu, Dictionary (1617), describes whiffler 

Notes 265 

as a club- or staff-bearer. The word is originally from whiffle, 
a fife or small flute. Whiffiers were those who preceded armies 
or processions, as fifers or pipers. In process of time whiffler 
came to mean anyone who went before in a procession or 
marshalled it. Sometimes the whifflers carried white wands of 
office. In Westward Ho (4to, 1607), V, 4, "torchmen and whiffiers" 
are spoken of as going in ceremonious procession. 

V.J14, farandinical. Of the nature of farandine ; hence second- 
rate, worthless. N.E.D. cites this passage. Farandine was a 
cloth made partly of silk, and partly of wool or hair. 

P. 114, Ananias. A generic name for a Puritan in allusion to 
Ananias, the deacon of Amsterdam, in The Alchemist. 

P. 115, Abednego. A name much favoured by fanatics from 
the story of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego {Daniel, iii). 

P. 115, Stepony. A kind of wine made from raisins with lemon- 
juice and sugar added. Cf. Etherege, The Comical Revenge (4to, 
1664), V, 4: " Do you not Understand the Mystery of Stiponie 

P. 116, tag-rag-and-long-tail. All and sundry ; used especially 
of the lower classes and the mobile. Cf. D'Urfey's Pills to Purge 
Melancholy (1719), IV, 113 : " To make a Match with Tag-rag, 
and Long-Tail." The phrase is oftener " Tag, rag, and bobtail," 
as Pepys, 6 March, 1659-60 : " Well, they aU went down into 
the dining-room, where it was fuU of tag, rag, and bobtail, 
dancing, singing, and drinking, of which I was ashamed." 

P. 118, Ling. " The best Sort of Salt Fish "—Mrs. Glasse's 
Cookery (1747). Cf. Pepys, 20 March, 1666-7: "had a good 
dinner of ling and herring pie, very good meat, best of the kind 
that ever I had." 

P. 118. dyet-drink. A drink prescribed for medicinal purposes. 
Cf. Etherege, The Comical Revenge (4to, 1664), IV, 6, where 
Betty says that Dufoy's Ulness was known by the discovery of 
" a Bottle of Diet-Drink he brought and hid behind the stairs." 

P. 119, my Bottle. A goodly-sized case-bottle was considered 
part of the essential equipment of a procuress. Cf. Shadwell's 
The Miser, produced at the Theatre Royal, January, 1672, 
Act I, where Goldingham numbers amongst his unredeemed 
pledges " a Bauds Silver Aqua-Vitae Bottle." An ancient sybil 
of this profession, with her rundlet of Nancy, figures prominently 

266 The Mock-Tempest 

in the sixth picture of Hogarth's The Harlot's Progress, and one 
may remember Foote's Mrs. Cole (a satire on Mother Douglas) 
with her modest demand for mint-water — ^but on occasion 
quaffing French drams supernaculum — and her parting instruc- 
tions to Sir George's man : " Richard, you may as well give 
me the bottle into the chair for fear I should be taken lU on the 

P. 119, the Syring and the Pot of Turpentine-pills. Cf. The 
Chances (folio, 1647), III, 3, where the Landlady says of Don 
John : 

" He's ne'er without a noise of syringes 
In's pocket (those proclaim him,) birding-piUs." 
A noise = a company, a quantity. Birding= wenching: this 
term is still in use among the vidgar. Also cf. Shadwell's The 
Virtuoso (Duke's Theatre, spring, 1676), Act I: "Then says 
another with great Gallantry, pulling out his Box of PiUs, 
Dam-me, Tom, / am not in a condition ; here's my Turpentine 
for my Third Clap: when you wbuld think he was not old 
enough to be able to get one." 

P. 120, Butcher-row. A very narrow street at the back of the 
Strand, so called from the butchers' shambles on the south side. 
Nat Lee died (1692) at the Bear and Harrow, a noted eating- 
house in this street. 

There was also a Butcher-row immediately outside Aldgate. 

P. 120, Scanderbegs. Scanderbeg is a common term for a 
militant warrior or conqueror from George Castriota (1404-67), 
a famous Albanian hero, who was for more than a quarter of a 
century the principal obstacle to the unlimited extension of the 
Ottoman Empire. He was at first a commander under Amurath 
II, and owing to his success he was raised to the rank of Sanjak 
with the title Iscander Bfey (Lord Alexander). In 1443 he 
renounced Moslemism, and won several battles against the 
Turks. At the instigation of Pius II he headed a crusade, and 
defeated Mohammed II and a vast army at Croia. 

P. 122, Shovel-board and Pigeon-holes. Shovel-board was a 
game in which a coin, a counter, or some other disk was driven 
by a smart blow with the hand along a highly poHshed board or 
table marked with transverse Mnes. Cf. Shadwell's The Miser 
(1672), III, I : "He has already lost his Edward Shillings that 

Notes 267 

he kept for Shovel-boaxd." Among the Herbert documents is a 
License for the " use of one Shovelbord " {Dramatic Records 
edited by T. Q. Adams (1917), p. 131). 

Pigeon-holes: "A game like our modem bagatelle, where 
there was a machine with arches for the baUs to run through 
resembling the cavities made for pigeons in a dove-house"; 
HaUiweU. Cf. Poor Robin's Almanack, 1699 : 

" The boys are by themselves at sholes 
At nine-pins or at pigeon-holes." 
P. 123, Kib'd-heels. A kibe is a chilblain upon the heel. Gf. 
Hamlet, V, i : " The toe of the peasant comes so near the heel 
of the courtier, he galls his kibe." 

P. 123, Gregoria Dunn. Edward Dun succeeded Richard 
Brandon as common hangman. Brandon, who is generally 
considered to have been the executioner of Charles I, died 20 
Jime, 1649. He and his father, Gregory, two notorious char- 
acters, were known as old Gregory and young Gregory, whence 
Gregory became a generic name apphed to an executioner. 
In "The Players Petition to the Long Parliament After being 
long SUenc'd, that they might Play again, 1642" (Jordan's i^oyflZ 
Arbor of Loyal Poesie, 1664), we have: 

" The Cheap-side Cross shall be new guilt, new painted 
Gregory be made a Sheriff, and Tyburn sainted." 
Dun probably died in 1678. The first printed notice of his 
successor, John Ketch, appears 2 December, 1678. 

P. 123, pinck-ey'd. pink = to blink; to half-close the eyes 
{Dutch; pinken, to shut the eyes, wink). Cf. Roxburgh Ballads 
(1681), V, 86: 
" When our senses are drown'd, and our eyes they do pink." 
P. 124, lonely lass. Gf . Ben's Ballad of Buxom Joan, Love for 
Love (30 April, 1695, Lincoln's Inn Fields), Act III : 
" For now the time was ended. 
When she no more intended 
To Hck her Ups at men, sir, 
And gnaw the sheets in vain, sir. 
And he o'nights alone." 
P. 125, i'vads. Or i'fads = In faith. A rustic expression. 
N.E.D. quotes this passage. Gf. The Country Wife (4to, 1675), 
IV, 2, where Mrs. Pinchwife says : " But yet evads I'U try, so 

268 The Mock-Tempest 

I will." Also D'Urfey, Fills to Purge Melancholy (1719), II, 342 : 
" Ivads no — I an't such a Baby neither." 

P. 126, switcheld. To switchel is a cant word meaning to have 
sexual intercourse. 

P. 127, half moon. Demilune. " An outwork resembling a 
bastion with a crescent-shaped gorge, constructed to protect a 
bastion or curtain." 

P. 127, Serty'd. Made a sortie ; dashed out. N.E.D., not before 

P. 127, Reformadoes. A reformado is an ofl&cer left without a 
command owing to the " reforming or disbanding " of his 
company, but retaining his rank and seniority, and receiving 
full or half pay. Hence it may also signify a volunteer serving 
in the army (or navy) without a commission but with the rank 
of an officer. 

P. 127, pize on her. Pize, which was vulgarly used in various 
imprecatory expressions, is a word of uncertain origin. It has 
been well suggested that it may be an arbitrary substitute for 
Pest or Pox, which latter came into common speech circa 1600. 
Pize is a favourite word with old BeUair in Etherege's The Man 
of Mode (Duke's Theatre, winter of 1676) ; also cf. ShadweU's 
The Squire of Alsatia (Theatre Royal, spring of 1688), Act I, 
where the rustic Belfond senior says: "Ah, sweet rogues! 
While in the countrey a pies take them ! there's such a stir with 
Pish, fie, nay, Mr. Timothy." 

P. 128, Canters. A fanatic who used religious cant, and so 
in the seventeenth century an apposite nickname of the Puritans. 
Evelyn in his Diary, 4 June, 1652, writes: " On Whit Sunday 
I went to the church (which is a very fair one) and heard one 
of the canters, who dismissed the assembly rudely, and without 
any blessing." 

P. 128, bubble. Cheat. Cf. The Country Wife (4to, 1675), III, 
2, when Homer says of Sparkish : " he is to be bubbled of his 
mistress as of his money." 

P. 130, and then she dy'd. A proverbial expression as in 
Dryden's The Wild Gallant (4to, 1669), I, 2: "Bibber. Has he 
used you, Frances ? put so much more into his bill for lodging. 
Loveby. Honest Will, and so he died ; I thank thee." 

P. 130, by Yea and by Nay. " Yea and Nay " was a phrase 

Notes 269 

often derisively applied to the Puritans of every kidney in 

allusion to the Scriptural injunction, S. Matthew, v, 33-7, which 

these fanatics feigned exactly to foUow. Timothy Thin-beard, 

a rascally Puritan, in HejTwood's If you Know Not Me, You 

Know Nobody, Part II (4to, 1606), is continually asseverating 

" By yea and nay." Cf. The Prologue (spoken by Smith) to 

Mrs. Behn's The False Count (Duke's Theatre, autumn, 1682) : 

" But shou'd the Torys now . . . 

Resolve to hiss, as late did Popish Crew, ^ 

By Yea and Nay, she'll throw herself on you, I 

The grand Inquest of Whigs, to whom she's true."] 

P. 132, 5^. James Fair. St. James' Fair, in Westminster, was 
held in the open space near St. James' Palace, and afterwards 
in St. James' Market. It was opened on the Eve of St. James, 
24 July, and lasted a fortnight. Prohibited by the ParUament 
in 1651, it was revived at the Restoration, but fell into disuse 
before the close of the reign of Charles II. Pepys visited the 
Fair, 26 July, 1660. 

P. 132, Crispe. The craclding of roast pork. N.E.D. quotes 
this passage. 

P. 132, haugou. Haut-gout, a rehsh or savoury. 

P. 132, Shat'Un. Chatelin's. There are innumerable references 
to this famous ordinary. Cf. Pepys, 13 March, 1667-8 : "At 
noon aU of us to ChateHn's, the French house in Covent Garden, 
to dinner." 

P. 132, Locket. This fashionable ordinary stood on the site 
of Drummond's Bank, Charing Cross. It was named from 
Adam Locket, the landlord, who died in 1688. In 1702, an 
Edward Locket, probably a son, was proprietor. The reputation 
of the house was on the wane during the latter years of Anne, 
and in the reign of George I its vogue came entirely to an end. 
There are frequent references in almost every writer of the period. 
Cf. a prologue which appears in Covent Garden Drollery (1672) 
and was later spoken before D'Urfey's The Fool Turn'd Critick 
(Theatre Royal, spring, 1678) : 

" Next these we welcome such as briskly dine 
At Locket's at Gifford's or with Shatiline." 

P. 133, Lamb's wool. There is a play upon words here. Lamb's- 
Wool Ale is hot ale mixed with the pulp of roasted apples. 

270 The Mock-Tempest 

sugared and well spiced. Lamb's-wool is historically famous on 
account of that impious wretch, Lord Howard of Esrick, who, 
having been lodged in the Tower on a charge connected with the 
so-called Popish Plot, to prove his innocence took the Sacreiment 
according to the Protestant rite of the Book of Common Prayer. 
It is said, however, that on this occasion, instead of wine lamb's- 
wool was profanely used in the administration. Cf. Dryden's 
pointed jibe — Absalom and Achitophel (November, 1681), I, 


" And Canting Nadab let Oblivion damn. 
Who made new Porridge for the Paschal Lamb." 
Cf. also Absalon's IX Worthies (a broadside) : 

" Then prophane Nadab, that hates aU sacred things. 
And on that score abominateth Kings; 
With Mahomet wine he damneth, with intent 
To erect his Paschal-lamb's-wool Sacrament." 
In D'Urfey's capital comedy The Royalist, produced at the Duke's 
house in the spring of 1682 (published 4to, 1682), V, i, the 
First Committeeman says: "Nor you never gave 'em the 
Sacrament in Lambswool and Plumb-Cake to be secret did you ?" 
A ballad on the Rye House Plot, The Conspiracy ; or. The Dis- 
covery oj the Fanatic Plot, sings : 

" Next valiant and noble Lord Howard 

That formerly dealt in lamb's wool ; 
Who knowing what it is to be towered. 
By impeaching may fill the jails fuU." 
P- 133. fif^o. faire la figue: dar la higa. Cf. Pistol's " a fico for 
the phrase !" {Merry Wives of Windsor, I, 3). 

P. 134, Crack. A whore. Cf. Farquhar, Love and a Bottle 
(1698), V, 2 : " You imagine I have got your whore, cousin, 
your crack." Grose, Diet. Vulgar Tongue, gives the word, and 
it is also cited by the Lexicon Balatronicum (1811). It was, in 
fact, in common use for weUnigh two centuries. 

P. 135, Farendine. A cloth made partly of sUk, and partly of 
wool or hair. Cf. Wycherley's Love in a Wood (4to, 1672), III, i : 
Was he not the man that give me my first Farrendon 

P- 135. Jessimy-butter. Jessimy= jasmine. Jessimy-butter 
was a toilet-cream made with jasmine. Cf. Edward Phillips 


Notes 271 

The New World of English Words (4th edition, folio, 1678), 
" with the flowers whereof Jesemin Butter is made." 

Jessimy-Gloves are gloves perfumed with jasmine. Cf. Pepys, 
26 October, 1666 : " I did give each of them a pair of Jesimy 
plain gloves." Scented gloves were introduced into England by 
the Earl of Oxford on his return from Italy, in the fifteenth 
year of Queen EHzabeth, during whose reign and for a century 
and a half later they were very fashionable. In Etherege's The 
Man of Mode (Duke's Theatre, 1676) Sir Fopling Flutter's 
gloves are " Orangerii," and going to the theatre he was " almost 
poison'd with a pair of Cordivant Gloves " worn by his neighbour. 
Thereup'on, Mrs. Loveit sjmipathizingly exclaims: "Oh! filthy 
Cordivant, how I hate the Smell!" In Dryden's The Kind 
Keeper (Duke's Theatre, 1679), Mrs. Tricksy remarked to 
Limberham: " I have been looking over the last Present of 
Orange Gloves you made me: and methinks I do not hke the 
Scent — O Lord, Mr. Woodall, did you bring those you wear 
from Paris V "Mine are Roman, Madam," replied WoodaU, 
to which the lady answered, " The Scent I love, of all the 

P. 135, laced Mutton. A cant term for a prostitute. Cf. 
Marlowe's Doctor Faustus (4to, 1604), where, in the scene with, 
the Seven Deadly Sins, Lechery says : " I am one that loves an 
inch of raw mutton better than an eU of fried Stockfish." Also 
Middleton and Dekker, The Roaring Girle, or Moll Cut-Purse 
(4to, 1611), a Fortune play, Act III, where Mistress Openwork 
says of her husband: " It caimot sink into me that he feeds 
upon stale mutton abroad, having better and fresher at home." 

P. 135, and so she praid me to tell ye. A cant phrase of the day, 
used somewhat meaninglessly to round off a sentence. 

P. 135, Aunt. A slang word for a bawd. It is of frequent 
occurrence, and is to be found in Grose's Dictionary of the Vulgar 
Tongue (1785). 

P. 137, Suburbian Hackney. In the days of EUzabeth and for 
more than a century and a half after her reign the suburbs 
(especially the Bankside, Tumbull Street in ClerkenweU, and 
Shoreditch), were notorious for their houses of ill-fame. In 
Heywood's The Rape of Lucrece (4to, 1608), the merry lord, 
Valerius, sings "a song of all the pretty Suburbians," II, 3.. 

272 The Mock-Tempest 

Cf. Measure for Measure, I, 2, where Pompey says to Mrs. 
Overdone, " All houses of resort in the suburbs of Vienna must 
be plucked down." 

Hackney = a prostitute of the lowest order. Cotgrave (1611), 
Bringuenaud^e — a common hackney. Cf. Mrs. Behn's The City 
Heiress (1682), IV, i : " Some common Hackney of the Sub- 

P. 137, the French. Morbus GaUicus, so termed almost immedi- 
ately upon its appearance in Europe. One of the earliest works 
issued from the Aldine Press in 1497 was the Lihellus de Epidemia 
quam vulgo morbum Gallicum vacant, written by Nicolao Leoni- 

P. 137, danc'd naked at the French house. The French house 
here mentioned was a notorious bordello of the day. Wycherley 
places the second scene of Act I, Love in a Wood (4to, 1672), 
at " The French House." This may be the same house as that 
to which Duffett here aUudes. Again, in The Gentleman Dancing- 
Master (4to, 1673), the second scene of Act I hes at " The 
French House," which is invaded by Mrs. Flirt and Mrs. Flounce, 
" two common Women of the Town." 

danc'd naked. Gf. Pepys, 30 May, 1668 : " And here I first 
imderstood by their talk the meaning of the company that 
lately were called Bailers ; Harris telling how it was by a meeting 
of some yormg blades, when he was among them, and my Lady 
Bennet and her ladies ; and their there dancing naked, and all 
the roguish things in the world." Harris was Henry Harris, 
the famous actor of the Duke's House. " Lady " Bennet was 
a procuress weU-known in her day. There are frequent references. 
She is described in The Tatler (84) as " the celebrated Madam 
Bennet," and it was to her that Wycherley addressed his ironical 
dedication of The Plain Dealer (4to, 1676). It may be remembered 
that in " The Rake's Progress," III, Hogarth shows us the 
interior of a brothel. Of this picture Mr. Glerk writes : "In the 
front, a woman is undressing, in order to exhibit some indecent 
postmres — (a filthy practice by which she obtained a precarious 

P. 137, Mild-sixpences. Cf. The London Chaunticleers, " A 
Witty Comedy, FuU of Various and Dehghtful Mirth. Anon. 
4to, 1659." " He has got my box of mill'd sixpences and Harry 

Notes 273 

groates." This is the earliest quotation given by the N.E.D. 
imder " milled." Henry Noel Humphreys, The Coinage of the 
British Empire (4to, 1854), records: " In 1663 the first issue 
of the improved miUed coinage took place." 

P. 137, Lerry-come-twang. Lerry is a mocking nonce diminu- 
tive of " Leery poope," itself a corruption of " Liripoop= 
Liripipe " in the sense of a fool, an idiot. Cf. Fletcher's The 
Pilgrim (acted at Court 1621; foho 1647), Act H, where testy 
old Alphonso says of Juletta, with whom he is angered : 

" And keep me this young hrry-poop within doors." 

P. 138, bug words. Bug-bear words ; words that terrify and 
alarm. Cf. Sir Martin Mar-all (Dryden and Newcastle), pro- 
duced at the Duke's House, Thursday, 15 August, 1667, I : 
" I . . . have nothing to hope for now but Death." Warner: 
" Death is a Bug-word, things are not brought to that Ex- 

P. 139, Tatter-de-mallion. This word first appears about 1611, 
since when its use is common. 

P. 141, Mittimus. A warrant of commitment to prison. Cf. 
Dryden's The Wild Gallant (4to, 1669), IV, i, where Justice 
Trice says : " Hang him, rogue ; make his mittimus immedi- 

P. 141, Westminster wedding. A Westminster wedding is a ■ 
slang phrase for "a whore and a rogue married together." A 
New Dictionary . . . of the Canting Crew. B. E. Gent (early 
eighteenth century). Cf. the lampoon A Westminster Wedding: 
Or, The Town-Mouth; alias, the Recorder of London and his 
Lady, February 17, 1679. Poems on State Affairs, III (1704), 
p. 193. Judge Jeffreys was the Recorder of London, and a few 
months before his election, in May, he married Lady Jones, a 
" brisk young widow " who is said by scandal to have borne a 
child shortly after the wedding. Jeffreys' first wife died in 
February, 1679. 

P. 143, Coging. Wheedling; cajoling. As in T. Jordan's 
The Cheaters Cheated: 

" Citizens are full of sUght, 
They will cog and flatter." 
Also (more especially of dice) tricking ; cheating. 


274 The Mock-Tempest 

p. 144, yellowes. Jealousy. Cf. Dekker's Satiromastix (4to, 
1602), II, I : 

" But all thy thoughts are yellow, thy sweet bloud 
Rebels, th'art jealous Wat." 
Also Ford's The Fancies, Chast and Noble (4to, 1638), II, 2 : 
" Troylo. Yet is this bachelor-miracle not free 
From the epidemical headache. 
Livio. The yellows ? 
Troy. Huge jealous fits." 
The idea here is emphasized in the refrain of the song Cuckoe, 

P. 144, Crouder. A fiddler. Cf. Fuller, Worthies, II, 306; 
" Sung but by some bhnd Crowder." Crouder is a favourite 
word with Duffett. Cf. Psyche Debauch' d (4to, 1678), Act I: 
■" Enter a Countrey Crouder followed by a Milk-maid with her 
Payl dressed up as on May-day." And later the line : " No 
Crouder e'r will Fiddle us." 

P. 144, Nandy. It must be borne in mind that Quakero 
represents Ferdinand. 

P. 145, Thorn back. The common ray or skate, as having 
several rows of short sharp spines arranged along the back and 

P. 145, Guly Penno. William Penn, 1644-1718. 
P. 146, gaily' d. To galley is to play a trick upon; a slang 
term. Grose, A Classical Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue 


P. 146, Culvers. Culver is a pigeon, a dove. The wood-pigeon 
is stUl so called in the South and West of England. Cf. The 
Ring and the Book, xii, 479 : 

" The lark, the thrush, the culver too." 
P. 146, a touch a feeling of their Case. An indecent jest is here 
intended. Cf . The Chances, foUo, 1647, IV, 3 : 
" Duke. [To the Bawd.] What are you? 
Petruchio. Bawd to this piece of pie-meat. 
Bawd. A poor gentlewoman 

That lies in town about law business 
And't like your worships. 

Petru. You shaU have law, beheve it. 

Bawd. I'll show your mastership my case. 

Notes 275 

Petru. By no means ; 

I had rather see a custard. 

Bawd. My dead husband 

Left it even thus, sir. 

John. Bless mine eyes from blasting ! 

I never was so frighted with a case." 
P. 146, the Play-house. Mr. W. J. Lawrence is of opinion that 
these references are to the " business " with the banquet in 
ShadweU's Tempest (in, 3), at the Duke's House. The two 
Spirits who there descend and fly away with the table of meat 
and fruits were no doubt dressed in some fantastic ape-hke 
shapes with long tails. They are alluded to by Alonzo and 
Gonzalo as " Devils " and " Fiends." Punchanello would then 
be the rival manager (of the Duke's Theatre). Mr. Lawrence 
writes in a private letter to myself: " I feel sure The Tempest 
had never been given anywhere by puppets, unless, indeed, 
Punch had indulged in some burlesque of the Shadwell pro- 
duction. But this would have taken the wind out of Duffett's 
sails, and for that reason hardly seems probable." 

P. 147, Nickers. Marbles generally made of baked clay. Cf. 
Mrs. Behn's The Round-heads ; or. The Good Old Cause (4to, 
1682), IV, 4: " The fine Gentleman . . . gave me these two fine 
Pieces of Gold . . . and I'm resolv'd to lay it all out in a Sword, 
not a penny in Nickers." 

P. 148, Bullet. Old French boulete, bowls. The game was also 
so called (locally) in Scotland. 

P. 148, Cat and Trap-ball. Tip-cat. Trap-ball: " a game in 
which a baU placed upon one end (slightly hollowed) of a trap 
is thrown into the air by the batsman striking the other end 
with his bat with which he then hits the ball away" {N.E.D.). 
Cf. ShadweU's The Sullen Lovers, produced at the Duke's House, 
Saturday, 2 May, 1668, Act III, where the clerk says : " Master 
Dash and I came to play a match at trap-ball," and Sir Positive 
(a caricature of Sir Robert Howard) replies : " Have you the 
confidence to talk of trap-baU before me ? . . . Why, I was so 
eminent at it when I was a schoolboy, that I was called Trap 
Positive aU over the school." Cf. also Pepys, 8 May, 1668: 
" Lord ! to see how this play of Sir Positive At-aU, in abuse of 
Sir Robert Howard do take . . . every body . . . telling more 

2/6 The Mock-Tempest 

stories of him. . . . The Duke of York himself said that of his 
playing at trap-ball is true." Act IV, Sir Positive declares: 
" I . . . play at cat, stool-ball, scotch hop, and trap-ball." 

P. 148, Lemine. A childish corruption of Gemini, a mild 
exclamation or petty oath in use principally among the vulgar. 
Cf. Otway's The Soldier's Fortune (Duke's House, 1680), II, i : 
"Gemini! what would become of me?" Also Ravenscroft's 
The London Cuckolds (Duke's House, 1681), II, 3: "Peggy. O 
Leminy ! not in a week, Aunt ; and does my Nuncle own all this 

P. 150, Scotch Morice. The morris, originally a grotesque dance 
performed by fancy characters (generally Friar Tuck, Maid 
Marian, etc., from the Robin Hood legend), came to mean any 
fantastic or novel round. 

P. 151, Truss-fayl. Truss-a-fail, a romping game. Cf. W. 
Hawkins, Apollo Shroving (1627), V, iv: "The wanes . . . 
play at trusse and at leap frogge on one anothers back." Also 
John Cleveland, The Model of new Religion (c. 1658), Works, 
1687 (p. 245) : 

" Or do the luncto leap at tniss-a-fail ? 

Three Tenants clap while five hang on the tail?" 

P. 152, Pissabeds. A common country name for Dandelions. 
French, pissenlit. Cf. Heywood's Loves Mistris (1636), V: 
" Garlands ... of Blew bottles and yellow pissabeds 
That grew amongst the Wheate." 
Blue-bottle : a rustic name for the blue corn-flowers. 

P. 152, Shock. These were fashionable dogs for ladies. Accord- 
ing to Sir Jasper Fidget {The Country Wife) one of Homer's 
occupations was to be " visiting our wives, . . . picking fieas out 
of their shocks for 'em." 

P. 153, Kip Kap. A term of contempt for a young bab5dsh 
person. Flemish, kippe = a young calf. This rare word is not in 
the N.E.D. 

P- 153. fleering. To fleer is to grin and look amorously or 
siUily. Cf. Burton's Anatomy of Melancholy (1621), I, ii, iii, xi: 
" How popular and curteous, how they grinne and fleire vpon 
euery man they meet." 

P. 153, mun. Man, used in the vocative. A vulgarism, which 
came to be a merely meaningless interjection. It was addressed 

Notes 277 

to females as well as to males. Cf. Congreve's Love for Love, 
produced at the New Theatre, Little Lincoln's-Inn Fields, 30 
April, 1695, Act II, where Miss Prue says to Mrs. Frail : " Smell, 
cousin ; . . . It's better than lavender, Mun ?" 

P. 153, a Mrs. A mistress. 

P. 157, hock-tide. Monday and Tuesday after Dominica in 
Albis (Low Sunday). In pre-Reformation times money was 
collected for church and parish purposes with many festive and 
sportive customs, some of which survived until the nineteenth 
century. One of the earlier customs (to which reference is made 
here) was the seizing and binding (by women on Monday and 
by men on Tuesday) of persons of the opposite sex, who paid a 
small coin to be released. In later days chains or ropes were 
stretched across the street to stop passers-by for the same 

P. 159, top and scourge. As in Shirley's The Gamester (1633), 
IIL 2 : 

" I'U send my nephew; he shall top and top him 
And scourge him hke a top too." 

P. 159, humguig. Mr. G. Thorn-Drury has furnished me with 
the following note on this rare word : " A guig or gig {ut infra) 
is a top ; and the humming-top of my childhood was worked 
by a string. There is no reason why a whip-top shouldn't be so 
made that it might be whipped till it hummed." Accordingly 
to humguig is to whip a top until it spins humming; and 
derivatively, to lash lustily. Humguig (perhaps only here) is 
omitted in the N.E.D. 

P. 161, glout. To stare at ; to make eyes at. Cf. the Prologue, 
written by Otway, spoken by Mrs. Barry, to Mrs. Behn's The 
City Heiress (Duke's Theatre, 1682) : 

" Ye go to Church to glout and ogle there." 
Also Orrery's Guzman (1679), IV : " Guzman glouts at her, sighs, 
and folds his arms." The more usual meaning of "to glout " 
is to frown or to scowl and this is the only explanation given by 
the N.E.D. 

P. 162, long Exercise. Exercise was the puritanical term for 
private worship. Cf. 1663, Flagellum ; or, 0. Cromwell (1672), 21 : 
" The Family was called together to prayers ; at which Exercise 
. . . they continued long." Also Mrs. Behn, The Round-Heads 

278 The Mock-Tempest 

(4to, 1682), II, i: "his Prayers; from which long-winded 
Exercise I have of late withdrawn my self." And Otway, The 
Atheist, produced in the autumn of 1683, V, i : " My Lover 
Gratian sighs, and turns up his Eyes Hke a godly Brother at 

P. 164, Nicodemus. A generic name for a fanatic. 

P. 164, enlightened Weaver. Cf. King Henry IV, Part I, ii, 4, 
where Falstaff says: " I would I were a weaver; I could sing 
psalms or anything." Davies, Dramatic Miscellanies (1784), I, 
p. 235, writes : " It is a common expression this day, in Scotland, 
to say ' psahn-singing weavers.' " The Protestants who came 
from Flanders and brought with them the wooUen manufactory, 
were much given to singing hymns whilst at their work. In 
Epiccene, III, 2, the Parson has a bad cold, " got . . . with 
sitting up late, and singing catches with cloth- workers." 

P. 164, Spand-farthing. Span-farthing, or span-counter: A 
game in which the object of one player was to throw his farthings 
(or counters) so close to those of his opponent that the distance 
could be spanned by the hand. Cf. Northward Ho, Dekker and 
Webster (4to, 1607), I: " You shaU find me playing at span- 
counter" (a pun is intended). Also Swift's Modern Education 
(1720) : " His chief solace is to steal down and play at span- 
farthing with the page or young black-a-moor." 

P. 166, Pilgrim-salve. " An old ointment made chiefly of 
swine's grease and isinglass " (HaUiweU). Cf. Rosemary and 
Bayes (1672), " Cutaneous pustules for which the pilgrim's salve 
will be necessary." 

P. 167, Urganda of Wildo streeto. Urganda is a prominent 
figure in the Amadis cycle of romance. It should be noticed that 
the Urganda of the original Amadis de Gaul is a true fairy, Hke 
the Lady of the Lake ; but the Urganda of the additional books 
of Amadis, of Esplandian, and Lisuarte of Greece is a fell enchant- 
ress resembling Lucan's Erichtho, " grata Deis Erebi." So 
Urganda came to be a generic name for any foul and ugly hag. 

Great Wild Street, Lincoln's Inn, led from the Drury Lane 
end of Great Queen Street to Sardinia Street. In Restoration 
days and later it was much frequented by prostitutes. Pope 
{aetat. 20) in a letter, 18 March, 1708, to Henry Cromwell says : 
" In the town it is ten to one, but a young fellow may find his 

Notes zy() 

strayed heart again with some Wild Street or Drury Lane 

Duffett's allusion, which would be fuU of point to the audience, 
is doubtless to some weU-known bawd or bona roba who resided 
in Wild Street at that time. 

P. 167, Punchanello Alquiffe. Mr. W. J. Lawrence writes of 
this passage : " Perhaps the Dorset Garden manager was called 
Punchanello because he was turning his actors into flying 
puppets — after the puppet method of the hour." Mr. Lawrence 
has furnished me with the very pertinent lines from Rochester's 
prologue to Fane's Love in the Dark (4to, 1675) : 
" Players turned puppets now at your desire 
In their mouths nonsense in their tails a wire. 
They fly through crowds of clouts and showers of fire." 
The date of Fane's play is doubtful, and Mr. Lawrence points 
out that the reference " may be to Psyche, a predecessor of 
The Tempest." I am inclined to think that the allusion is The 

P. 168, Rearer. A battledore. 

P. 168, By thy stealers and Pickers. Cf. Hamlet, IH, ii, where 
to Rosencrantz, " My lord, you once did love me," Hamlet 
repHes : " So I do still, by these pickers and stealers." " Pickers 
and stealers " is a slang term for the hand and fingers. It is 
derived from the Catechism in the Book of Common Prayer. 
The catechumen in his duty to his neighbour is taught " to keep 
his hands from picking and stealing." 

P. 168, thy Top and thy Gigg. A gigg is a whipping-top. Cf. 
Brome, The New Academy (8vo, 1658), IV, i : " I broke and did 
away all my storehouse of tops, gigs, balls, cat and catsticks." 

P. 169, a Baud and Pimp . . . in a Cart. Bawds and pandars 
were drawn through the streets in a cart surrounded by the 
mobUe beating basins and performing rough music. See " the 
Comical Passages of an Italian Bridewell," The Honest Whore, 
II (4to, 1630), V, 2. Mistress Horseleech, the procuress in this 
play, is said to have been " five times carted." 

P. 171, Pad. Pad = a path or highway ; hence a highwajmian, 
a robber. Cf. foot-pad. Don Juan (1823), XI, 11 : 

" These freebom sounds proceeded from four pads 
In ambush laid, . " 

28o King Lear 

P. 173, Cullies. Ctilly was originally slang or rogues' cant 
for one who is cheated and fleeced. It is a very common term in 
the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. Cf . Sedley's Bellamira 
(4to, 1687), I, I : " I'll . . . shew her I am not such a cully as 
she takes me for." 


P. 177, Thomas Boteler. Thomas Butler, of the family of the 
Duke of Ormond. 

P. 178, Spanish Fryar. Dryden's admirable comedy, The 
Spanish Fryar, was published 4to, 1681. 

P. 179, The Persons. A manuscript hand {circa 1697-8) has 
attached to the British Museum copy of Tate's King Lear the 
following cast: Lear, Powell; Kent, UnderhiU; Edgar, Ver- 
bruggen; Bastard, Husbands; Gentleman-Usher, Bright; 
Goneril, Mrs. Lee; Regan, Mrs. Bowman; Cordeha, Mrs. 
Bracegirdle. In the original cast it may be noted that Lady 
SHngsby (n/e Mary Aldridge) was our first titled actress. Anne 
Shadwell was the wife of the poet. 

I have added to the Persons : An Old Man, Tenant to Gloster : 
Physician : Arante : Two Ruffians. These are not listed by the 
original editions. 

P. 191, Clatpole. This form used by Tate is the reading of the 
Shakespearean quartos. Tate's King Lear, i2mo, 1729, has 
" Clodpole." Johnson and Dyce in their editions of Shakespeare 
prefer " clodpoll." Clatpole = blockhead. 

P. 195, Lipsbury Pinfold. The Shakespearean commentators 
tell us "It is not yet come to knowledge where that Lipsbury 
is." Nares says it is a coined name. Pinfold = a boxing ring. 
Dyce notes that a pinfold is also a pound. 

P. 195, glass-gazing. A glass-gazer is one who wastes his time 
in admiring his reflection in a mirror. 

P. 197, Muss-cat. Musk-cat ; a fop drenched with perfumes. 

P. 198, Lurcher. A swindler, a rogue. 

P. 207, Pudder. Tate has the reading of the Shakespearean 
foHos, for which some recent editors have substituted " pother." 

P. 208, [Enter Gloster]. I have inserted this entrance, which 
the old editions do not mark. 

Notes 281 

p. 209, [with Arante]. The old editions do not mark Arante's 
entrance and exit in this scene. 

P. 211, Semele. Semele, beloved of Jupiter, demanded that 
he should appear to her in his full glory. He did so, but she 
was overwhelmed by the thunder and blasted by the fiery Ught- 
nings. As she expired, the god rescued Bacchus, their unborn 

P. 212, [Enter Edgar disguis'd.] I have supphed this entrance 
of Edgar. 

P. 212, bareheaded. The quartos 1681 and 1699 misprint 
" beheaded." 

P. 213, Star-blasting, and Taking. Star-blasting, coming under 
the baneful influence of an evil planet. 

Taking, being bewitched or enchanted. 

P. 214, Wall-Newt and the Water Newt. The Wall-Newt is the 
lizard; the Water Newt the tadpole. The Tate quarto, 1681, 
prints " WaU-Nut " and " Water-Nut." The Shakespeare folios 
read " waU-Neut " and " water-Neut," whence this error. 

P. 215, Lym. A large dog of the spaniel kind. A hunting dog 
so called from the leam (leash) in which he is held. Tate mis- 
takenly read " H}^!." 

P. 215, Tight. Tyke. Tate read " Hight." About much of 
Edgar's mad language he does not seem to have been very 

P. 215, knits the Elflock. The elflock was a tangled lock of 
hair fantastically supposed to have been dishevelled by Queen 
Mab. It was tmlucky to comb it straight. Cf. Romeo and Juliet, 

" This is that very Mab, 
That plats the manes of horses in the night ; 
And bakes the elf-locks in foul sluttish hairs. 
Which once untangled much misforttme bodes." 

P. 216, Stagirite. Philosopher. Aristotle the Stagirite was 
bom at Stageira, a sea-port in the district of Chalcidice. 

P. 227, rank Femiter. Tate follows the Shakespearean quartos 
which read " Femiter." The more usual form is Fumiter. 
There are five species of Fumitories in England, aU of them 
weeds which infest cultivated grounds and hedge-rows. 

P. 227, Burdocks. The burdock is a coarse weedy plant 


282 King Lear 

common on waste ground. Its prickly flower-head is called a 
bur, and it has large leaves hke those of the dock. 

P. 232, i' th' White. The white is the mark fixed in the centre 
of the butts, the archers' aim. Shakespeare has " clout," a 
word of precisely the same signification. 

P. 233, Pitcher. Or Fitchew, also fitchet, and fytchock. The 
pole-cat, which is very lecherous. Hence frequently used for 
a whore. Cf. The Scornful Lady, V, i, where Loveless senior, 
after mocking the wanton Abigail, cries : " Farewell, fytchock." 

P. 236, Costard or my Ballow. A costard is a large kind of 
apple ; hence, slang, the head. 

Ballow is defined by Grose (Provincial Glossary) as a North- 
country word for a pole. 

P. 236, voryour Voines. Voines = f oins, pushes or thrusts with 
a sword. 

P. 254, Tangier. Tangier, the dowry of Catharine of Braganza, 
was first given up to the EngUsh fleet by the Portuguese, 30 
January, 1662 ; and Lord Peterborough was then left governor, 
with a garrison. The fortress and harbour were improved at 
great expense. At length the House of Commons became 
disinclined to support an army there, and in 1683 the king sent 
Lord Dartmouth to bring home the troops and destroy the 
works. Hereupon the importance of the position vanished, and 
it feU into the hands of the Moors. Many views of Tangier 
dxiring the Enghsh occupation were taken and engraved by